


Losers Club Plus One

by anxiouslymalicious



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Angst and Humor, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Love the Losers Club (IT), It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Protective Losers Club (IT), Richie Tozier Is A Dad, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouslymalicious/pseuds/anxiouslymalicious
Summary: Richie Tozier was happy with his life. His career was doing well, he had people he could trust and a daughter he loved very much. Nothing could shake him, not a dark cloud in sight. Or so he thought. Because a single call before one of his shows proved him wrong. Very wrong.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier & Reader, Richie Tozier/Original Female Character(s), Richie Tozier/Reader, Richie Tozier/daughter reader, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

#  Losers Club Plus One 

###  Part 1 

“Dad? Are you alright?” asked a small voice behind Richie as he was still in utter shock. Well, the owner of the voice wasn’t exactly small anymore, but it sounded so hesitant and broken, it might as well had been a little kid trying to catch his attention. His throat was still burning, the foul taste of bile laid heavily on his tongue. Richie’s face scrunched up in disgust as another wave if nausea hit him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good- “ He started, but was interrupted by himself as he leant over the railing and more of his stomach’s content escaped. The young girl stepped closer to her father, lying her hand on his back in a comforting manner before a group of people busied her father again, giving him booze and water before his show. 

“Be good, little one.” Richie rushed out as he passed his phone to his daughter who would take it to his dressing room where it wouldn’t be any more of a distraction than it had been so far. The girl nodded and sent a smile his way, but he didn’t catch it anymore as he stormed out onto the huge stage, greeted by cheers. The smile was quickly wiped off the girl’s face as she made her way through the narrow hallways filled with too many people for her liking. Ducking under equipment, dodging people in suits who were too busy looking at their phones to realise where they were going and ignoring the voices of people telling her that she was not supposed to go into certain areas. She was, they just didn’t know, so she showed them her backstage pass and kept walking until she saw the door to her safety. Once she stepped into the stuffy room that reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, she closed the door behind her, locked it and made herself comfortable on the little couch. 

Her father’s phone was buzzing in the young girl’s pocket, catching her attention. Who in hell had called and what did they say to throw her father so out of track? Judging by the nervous voices around her in the hallways, she was sure that her father wasn’t off to a good start for the show, something that hadn’t happened in ages. Not since his first actual show. 

The girl was absent-mindedly biting her nails before another buzz of her father’s phone pulled her out of it and she decided to have a look. Richie’s phone was blowing up with messages from his manager, which she decided to ignore as she checked the calls. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Richie had been called by someone from Derry, Maine, but a bit of deeper digging told her that it was actually the local library’s number. Rather than reaching the sweet relief of knowing, she felt her insides churn with fear and confusion, feeling restless until she heard the familiar ruckus that ensued when her father was close to finishing a show. 

It had felt like literal ages since Richie had left for the stage and the young girl was eager to ask her father about what was going on. Especially after that whole library-thing. Obviously, she had checked several times that she got the number right, and she did. Was her father throwing up because he was so nervous over a few overdue books from years ago?

The whole time she spent waiting, the girl tried to figure out whether her father had been on tour in Derry, whether he had even mentioned Derry ever before, but she was sure that, in her years of living with her father, she had never so much as heard him utter the word ‘Derry’ ever before.

Quickly, the girl moved to unlock the door so her father wouldn’t run into the door again like he had many times already, then sat down on the couch again, her leg bouncing nervously as she mindlessly tapped her fingers against the phone in her hand. 

It wasn’t long until Richie stormed into the room, locking every unnecessary person out and turned to his daughter, drink in hand, holding his other hand out for her to pass him his phone. She did, following their usually so quiet routine. After spending more than an hour talking endlessly about whatever jokes they had put into the set, he was grateful when he could spent a few minutes not saying anything, just listening to the voice of his daughter telling him about what had happened in school that day, telling him what stupid things someone backstage did or what she and her friends were up to. It was relaxing to him, knowing that she was there, and her life was going somewhere.

But not this time. 

“Dad why did the Derry library call you?” she asked with the calmest voice she could muster, although her voice was shaking with fear. Of what, she didn’t know, not yet, but she knew it was something big. Something bigger than her or him. Something bigger than overdue books and the terrifying old ladies that would scold you and make you feel like crying even when it had only been a day overdue. 

“It wasn’t the library, it was,” Richie sighed before taking another sip of his drink, “It was an old friend of mine. Mike Hanlon. We made a promise when we were kids and now, I need to go back to Derry.” Richie mumbled into his glass. Nonetheless, she understood every single word he said. 

“We.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she got up from where she was curled up on the couch. 

“No. Definitely not. You’re staying here.” Richie said before downing the rest of his drink and looking through the cabinets for a new bottle. 

“On my own? Or with my non-existent mother who left me at your door, remember? Or with the neighbours? The creepy ones with all those fucking life-size dolls?” she asked, her voice growing louder. 

“Oh, fuck off, you’re lucky you’re my daughter, Y/N.” Richie said before letting his own body drop to the couch she had previously occupied. “Shouldn’t have let you watch my shows. Big Bill is going to love you.” Richie grumbled, rubbing his face. A grin spread on Y/N’s face as she sat next to her father, lightly leaning her head against his shoulder. Automatically, Richie’s arm spread over her shoulder, pulling her closer, trying to keep her safe from what was about to come. From the inhuman atrocities she was about to witness. Keep her safe from IT. 

“When are we leaving?” she mumbled into Richie’s shoulder. Another sigh escaped his lips.

“As soon as possible.” He told her and, so, she found herself in an airplane not much later. They would fly as close to Derry as possible before taking a rental car to drive to the Derry Town House where they would be staying. 

“What was Derry like? And your friends?” Y/N asked curiously as they found their seats on the plane. She watched as her father stared straight ahead for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed, as he was deep in thought. 

“I- I don’t- I can’t fucking remember. I honestly can’t remember shit, Y/N.” Richie mumbled, followed by a groan as an indescribable pain shot through his eyes. He closed them tightly, his hands flying to the armrests, fingernails digging into the material. Y/N watched on, shocked to say the least. Shaking her father, she tried to find out what was wrong with him, but as suddenly as this burning pain in his eyes, behind his eyes, had appeared, it had also gone. 

“Don’t worry, I’m fucking fantastic.” Richie grumbled towards his worried daughter as he leant back in his seat, trying to remember where that came from, why it felt so familiar. 

After many tiresome hours that were mostly spent sleeping, with rare exceptions of Richie mumbling to string his memories together, using her as some kind of journal to keep track of what he remembered and how his memories were connected, the father-daughter-duo found themselves just outside the airport, looking for the car they rented, on wobbly legs. The sunset was about to start, the sun lazily rose, turning the deep dark blue into a pale, greyish-blue colour that slowly but surely turned into a pinkish hue. 

“Did you fall asleep standing or are you just being the same lazy ass as always?” Richie screamed, standing in front of the car that seemed to be theirs. And, for the first time in many hours, Y/N could see the outlines of a genuine smile growing on her father’s face. And she couldn’t help but smile with him. 

“Just wanted you to do all the searching, old man.” She grinned as she took her bag to the car and got in. Richie, obviously, searched for a radio station that played some good old rock’n’roll to distract him for the fear rising in the pit of his stomach. He was scared, but he wouldn’t admit it to his daughter. Because he wasn’t only afraid of IT and the things IT might do not only to him, but also his friends or, worst of all, his daughter, but Richie was afraid of facing his old friends. Or more those who would appear. He didn’t have high hopes for them, expecting that maybe three of them would appear and he would be able to take his and his daughter’s ass out of the town first thing after the lunch because they were not enough to defeat IT. 

That thought kept Richie sane as he walked up the scarily unfamiliar yet strangely street towards the Town House. Shivers ran up and down his spine and he felt Y/N’s comforting hand on his back, trying her best to ground him. And, just like her father, Y/N wouldn’t admit that she was scared. She hadn’t seen what he had, she didn’t know what she was facing, what was so chilling about this town, its residents and its sewers, but she had never seen her father this quiet before. And that scared her. 

Once they arrived in their small room, the duo sat down on the edges of their beds, silence taking over. The sun had meanwhile risen higher, clearly visible and warming the cool streets. 

“Maybe we should order breakfast or nap a bit?” the young girl broke the unbearable silence, pregnant with unspoken opinions. Richie still thought she shouldn’t be here with him, but in their house back in LA. Y/N, however, was convinced that her father needed her support with whatever he was about to do. He still refused to tell her about IT, still hoping that they would be gone in a few hours and she didn’t need to be scared of something they couldn’t do anything about, something they didn’t need to fight. 

Richie nodded, kicked off his shoes with a sigh and laid back on his bed. His daughter grew irritated. 

“Maybe you can order something while I’m taking a shower. Maybe then you’ll have your panties untwisted.” The girl said before stepping into the small room, closing and locking the door behind her. What she didn’t expect, though, was to come face to face with a boy her age. He looked like a normal kid, soft curls surrounding his face, but there was something off about him. 

“I see, the loser’s newest addition finally made it to Derry. And she has just as many secrets as all the other losers.” Said the boy with a chilling smile on his thin lips. 

“What the actual fuck are you doing here and how the fuck did you get in here? You know what? Doesn’t matter right now. Just please get the fuck out.” She growled, puzzled at how neither she nor Richie had noticed a teenage boy hiding in their bathroom. Hadn’t her father used the bathroom when they first entered?

As she turned to unlock the door, an ice-cold hand laid itself on her shoulder, pulling her back into the cold body behind her. She now squirmed, trying to unlock and open the door rather frantically, desperate to get away from whatever ghostly being was behind her, but no matter how hard she tried, which way she turned the key, it did nothing to open the door. 

“Dad!” she yelled, hammering her hands against the wood. “Help me! Some creep is in here and I can’t get out.” Richie was up in a flash, his heart feeling like it just dropped to his stomach, and ran to the door, yelling his little girl’s name in despair and banging his fists against the old door. 

“Y/N, whatever you’re seeing is not real. Don’t be scared, it’s not real!” Richie screamed, his voice clear but shaky. The girl was confused at his utterances. 

“How is he not-“ she started, but stopped when the boy was grinning at her, now looking older than before and covered head to toe in blood that was streaming from the huge cuts on his lower arms. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” she forced out instead and tried to get as far away from the being as possible. 

“Don’t worry, Richie. She will float with all the other children and your dirty little secret will remain uncovered.” It said in a high voice that didn’t fit the man in front of the girl before trying to grab her throat. Y/N tried to duck away, but she felt her body being pushed forward against the sink, her head crashing against the mirror, breaking it. 

“Y/N! Try to hurt it! It’s not real! Not real, it’s not real!” Richie kept yelling through the door as he kept kicking and throwing his whole body against the fragile wood. Although his words were meant to comfort his daughter, it sounded more like a mantra he was using to comfort himself. The girl listened to her father, picking up some of the shards that were now in the sink. With a swift movement, she sunk the shard into the older man’s face, pulling it down as hard as she could. A huge gash was on the man’s bloody face, but instead of more blood, some black mass seeped out of the wound, but whatever it was that was standing in front of the teenager, it didn’t seem too phased. An angry expression formed on its face before it leaped for her, grasping her throat and pushing her up against the wall. She was gasping, desperate to fill her lungs with the oxygen they were already lacking, but not yet screaming for. She squirmed, hammering the shard in her hand against the thing, successfully hurting it. It let go of her, dropping her into the bathtub below her before fleeing through the toilet. 

Richie finally managed to break down the door, falling into the room only to find his daughter shaken up beyond belief, curled up in the bathtub. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes while blood streamed down her suddenly paler than usual complexion from an open wound on her forehead. She didn’t look like she had seen a ghost, she looked like she was the ghost.

“Oh god, come here. I- fuck. It’s alright, it’s over. You’re alright. Fucking hell, you’re alright.” Richie mumbled as he crawled into the bathtub with her, pulling his little girl into his arms, tightly pressing her shaking body into his chest. Soft whimpers escaped her lips against her will. Richie spread out a little, legs hanging out of the bathtub as he just tried to comfort her while trying not to lose it and leave immediately. Back to LA, where IT couldn’t reach them.


	2. Chapter 2

Y/N was rather quiet on the ride to the restaurant. Richie, in his nervous manners, tried to tease her into talking to him, told her where he got beat up by the Bowers again ‘because they were intimidated by my dashing appearance’ he told his daughter with a grin, but she was lost in her thoughts. Not only lost, Richie thought, she looks like she is drowning in her own mind. He didn’t blame Y/N though. He couldn’t. Not when he remembered how shaken he was after his first encounter with IT. How much he tried to deny that what he had seen was real and true, how often he told himself that the encounter with the Paul Bunyan stature was nothing but a dream and how scared he was after Bill, Big Bill, had almost been killed by a picture.

“Listen, what you saw there- “

“Is that why you didn’t want me here, dad? That… Thing? Whatever that was?” Y/N interrupted her father mid-sentence, her voice hoarse and thick with unshed tears. After the whole encounter with IT, the young girl showered faster than she ever had before in hopes of getting rid of the dirty feeling all over her skin, the goo that seeped out of the thing she stabbed and the blood. Not only the blood that covered the man’s arms, but also her own blood. Richie had tended to the wound on her forehead and cleaned the other smaller scratches that IT had left on her body. It hurt him, physically hurt him, to see his daughter like that, he cursed himself for taking her with him but what choice did he have? She was left on his doorsteps as a baby, with only a card, telling him the little girl’s name and that she was the result of a one-night stand Richie couldn’t remember, a result the mother didn’t want to deal with, but no name of the mother. And, although most of the neighbourhood was nice, Richie didn’t consider any of them an option for her, after all, he didn’t talk to them much. He didn’t even know their names. His manager might have been an option, having spent countless hours with Y/N as she grew up, but he was already pissed off at Richie’s sudden departure, surely, he wouldn’t do the pair another favour. Leaving Y/N alone at home was the last option, but what kind of option was that? Richie wasn’t even sure that he would get out of there alive, did he really want to leave her alone like that, probably with nothing more than a call by Mike telling her that her father wouldn’t return? Just the thought made Richie’s heart ache beyond what he thought was possible.

“We called it IT. I’m sure the other losers can help me explain. Because, fuck, I don’t know how to explain this shit to you. I don’t even know if I understand any of this.” Richie replied. Ever since they arrived in Derry, he had been strangely serious, noticed Y/N.

“It’s alright.” She mumbled before leaning against the car window. The cold was very welcome, the steady hum of the car helping her ground herself. She still couldn’t grasp what had happened not long ago, but she was sure there would be a logical explanation. Right?

Her thumb flew up to her face and the girl nervously bit down on the nail, careful not to bite it off, but trying to find something to take her mind off. She could have played some stupid game on her phone or tell one of her friends what had happened, but she didn’t feel like either of them. Especially not when she knew that her friends would get a room ready for her at the local nuthouse.

“It’s not, we both know that. That stupid clown is lucky I wasn’t in the room. Would have done the job myself and ripped his head off for going near my baby.” Richie fell back into an angry grumble. His hands tightened around the steering wheel and the car sped up a little. Y/N lifted her head from the window to look at her father. After his eyes started burning again short before leaving for the lunch, Y/N managed to convince him to take out his contact lenses and wear his glasses instead. He reluctantly agreed, although he hated how big his eyes looked behind the thick lenses. It reminded him of his childhood. How the other kids made fun of his coke-bottle glasses. How often Bowers broke his glasses and Richie shamefully had to tell his parents that he would need a new pair. The glasses made Richie feel self conscious and insecure in his appearance. 

Richie’s eyes, although they appeared huge behind the thick glasses, were narrowed. He looked like he had been through hell already and Y/N was sure that they hadn’t seen the worst yet.

“Dad?” Y/N asked desperately. Richie hummed in reply, not taking his eyes off the street and the passing cars as he drove through the familiar yet unfamiliar streets, passing buildings he tried to remember. It was hard though. Richie often wasn’t sure whether a house had a few exterior changes done, was still the same as it had been when he left, or if it hadn’t existed altogether when he was a child.

“I love you.” She continued in a soft voice, searching his face for a reaction. Immediately, his face softened, he looked more at ease after hearing those words, like he hadn’t failed completely at his job as a father in those last hours. His body relaxed lightly, leaning back into the seat, his hands less cramped around the steering wheel.

“I love you too. And I know that I don’t tell you often, but I’m actually very happy that you were the fastest swimmer and your mother didn’t swallow.” Richie replied with a grin, taking his eyes off the road for a second to watch her face, knowing that his words would earn him at least a small smile from you. And, lo and behold, the girl scoffed, a grin on her lips as she punched her father’s shoulder gently, in a playful manner that he knew too well.

“You’re disgusting.”

“If I am, then so are you. I made you, remember?”

“How am I supposed to remember when you can’t remember shit?”

“Low blow, shitface, low blow.” Richie laughed. The first of many hearty laughs of the night, but they didn’t know. The atmosphere shifted. Somehow, the duo felt as though they finally had some air to breathe, the car didn’t seem to suffocate them anymore. Y/N felt relaxed, like whatever the thing was that attacked her earlier couldn’t get to her. Not right now. She was safe with her father. And her father was safe with her.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the restaurant, parked the car, but didn’t get out.

“Why aren’t you moving?” Richie asked his daughter, not daring to look at her and opting to look straight ahead, watching the leaves of the bushes and trees in front of them move with the wind. Occasionally, he heard a car moving behind him to park, followed by a muffled babble of voices growing quieter as they walked away from their car. Y/N mimicked her father’s actions.

“Why aren’t you?” she asked in return. Richie pushed her lightly before taking a deep breath and stepping out into the unfamiliar air around him. Nothing in this street was like it had been when he left his hometown, Mike had obviously chosen neutral ground, something that wasn’t connected to bad nor good memories. Something that wouldn’t make them feel like they were forcing themselves to, once more, become the young, mismatched, dorky group of losers when they really were middle-aged losers with rather average and boring lives. Lives that they enjoyed, but boring for the most part.

A light breeze. Chirping birds. Everything around them seemed strangely alive for a town in which people are murdered every day, Richie thought as he watched his daughter get out of the car before he locked it, taking her inside.

As soon as they entered the restaurant, they could feel the air buzzing with excitement. Wild chattering, children squealing, the clattering of plates and cutlery echoed to their ears as their noses were filled with the overwhelming smell of food. Y/N felt her stomach growl aggressively, her hand shot up to cover her stomach as her cheeks heated up in embarrassment.

“Time to feed the monster.” Richie told her, his hand resting on her back as he led her further into the restaurant. Mike was quick to spot his old friend, walked towards him and greeted the man with a hug.

“Richie. Good to see you.” Mike told him honestly, feeling the smaller man hug him a little tighter in return. “You too, Mike.” Richie replied with just as much honesty before he pulled out of the hug.

“This is Y/N, my daughter. Couldn’t leave her behind all on her own. Too much of a baby.” Richie introduced his daughter, who interrupted him with a surprised ‘hey’ before shaking Mike’s hand, ever so polite. He chuckled, although the surprise was clear on his face.

“I didn’t think someone so polite could be related to Richie Tozier. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Mike Hanlon, an old friend of Richie.” Mike told the girl as he opened his arms to engulf her in a hug. She accepted the hug. Mike’s heart felt warm as he held the girl for a short moment, feeling like he had just become an uncle. Maybe he had. Maybe it had been an unspoken rule that people who used to be so close, shared a trauma like the losers had, grew to be uncles and aunts of each other’s children, but they hadn’t talked in 27 years. Were they still close enough to share a bond of such kind?

Richie grinned, his hands in his pockets as he watched proudly how his own flesh and blood bonded with one of his best friends, just like he had ages ago. It was like he was watching a younger version of himself although Richie thought that Y/N looked a lot more like her mother than him. He still couldn’t remember the woman, how she looked, what she was like, but in his mind, he built a version of her with all the unfamiliar features in Y/N’s face and her behaviour, her likes and dislikes.

“Is everyone else already here?” Richie suddenly asked, pulling himself out of his daydreams. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, it had slid down the bridge of his slightly sweaty nose, then looked towards the man whose face showed tiredness and exhaustion, overpowered by sheer happiness. Mike looked just like he did when he was a kid, Richie thought, just a little older.

“Everyone except Stan. But I’m sure he’ll join us later.” Mike explained, pointing towards a little room, exclusively reserved for the Losers Club, plus one who no one knew was coming yet. The duo followed Mike, Richie first, then Y/N. She felt like she should stay back for a bit, let them enjoy the moment together. So, as the men entered the much quieter room, she stayed at the door, moving behind it a little to watch the men and the woman hug each other, vividly talking about the things they just started remembering after Mike called. Once her father reached a slightly smaller man, she could see something else in his eyes. A smirk grew on her lips as she watched a banter ensue that he had never seen before. Her father was acting different than with all those women she had seen him with at afterparties or other events.The women he flirted with but never took home. There was something about the way he carefully, but tightly embraced the man, the way Richie’s eyes looked, how his smile reached his eyes, how he focused solely on teasing the smaller man.

Y/N giggled, deciding to keep an eye on the two men for the rest of their trip to Derry as her eyes travelled over the other people. A woman with vibrant red hair talked to a tall man, his hands cramped into his jeans pocket. He had dark hair, a goatee and looked rather attractive. But, as he was talking to the smaller woman, who seemed like she was aware of Y/N standing in the doorway, although her eyes were fixed on the man in front of her, a shy smile on her lips, he looked nervous. More nervous than Y/N would expect. And she wondered what caused it. Was it the fact that he was back in Derry? As she understood, all the losers hadn’t seen each other in decades, and it would be understandable if all of them were jittery to meet each other again. Or was it maybe the woman who made him so nervous that he had to rub his sweaty palms on his jeans every other minute? 

Y/N’s eyes wandered further. Another man was talking to Mike. He looked a bit more relaxed, but tense nonetheless. His hair was brown, like the other men’s. It was a lighter shade though, and, besides what Y/N thought might be a reddish tone in his hair, she noticed a few grey hairs. She locked eyes with said stranger who waved at her with a shy smile. Y/N felt like a little kid once more, desperately looking for her father as she felt an anxious tingle on her skin. He, however, was still busy teasing the man who looked exasperated, but happy.

“Hey, uh, Richie? I think you might have a fan.” The man said, nodding towards Y/N. Her eyes widened as her father grinned at her, motioning for her to come over and join them.

“As much as I hope that she is a fan of my work, she also is one of my better jokes. This is my daughter, Y/N.” Richie proudly stated, taking in the shocked faces of his friends. As he spoke, Y/N followed his motions, stepping into the room with quick steps until she reached her father’s side. Richie wrapped his arm around the jumpy girl’s shoulder, in hopes that he would calm her just a little. Despite the way he was acting, Richie was just as tense as everyone else about the situation. He thought that deep down all of them knew why they were here, but they were blissfully ignoring the real reason. 

“Don’t act like this is such a surprise now. Women could never resist my charm.” Richie was now grinning as his daughter giggled lightly next to him.

“We’re just surprised someone like you would ever have children. I pity your wife, but mostly the kid. She had to spend her whole life with you, assbag.” the man Richie had been bickering with replied before directing his attention to Y/N. “I’m Eddie and I’m so sorry you had to grow up with Richie as a father. I bet he’s just as bad as he was when I had to spent time with him.” He continued to introduce himself, sending her a wink at the last part. Y/N laughed shortly, nodding in agreement, before the two broke out in an awkward movement, not sure whether to shake hands or hug. Y/N finally settled for hugging him shortly before moving on, introducing herself to the other figures in the room.

Soon, the laughter died down and the Losers plus one settled down at the table. Y/N was sitting on one side of her father, Eddie on the other. The bickering went on, new memories resurfaced every few minutes and Y/N felt herself being pushed into the background. She didn’t mind, but she had to admit that she felt uncomfortably out of place with all the adults. Not because they were so much older, she thought as she watched them interact, no. The people at the table were all children. She just felt strange as everyone kept glancing at her seat, expecting someone else to sit there for a split second before remembering that he wasn’t there. 

After a more than satisfying dinner, the waitress brought fortune cookies into the room. Everyone excitedly grabbed one, opening them eagerly in hopes of making fun of whatever the cookie was going to tell them, but Richie dropped his own just as quickly as he had taken it. Disappointment was clear on his face.

“Either fortune isn’t on my side or these people are shit at making fortune cookies. Mine just says ‘could’.” Richie said, leaning back in his chair. Confusion erupted in the room as the other losers opened theirs, finding single words in each of theirs. That was the last calm moment before everyone was trying to make a sentence out of the words. The strangest combinations came to be. But there were still a few fortune cookies left unopened.

“Y/N have a cookie. What does yours say?” Richie asked as he passed his daughter one while Bill was busying himself opening the last one. But before Bill could read out what it said, which admittedly made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, all eyes were on Y/N. As she had cracked the cookie open, warm red liquid sprayed out of it, staining her shirt and skin. She could feel a queasy sensation in her stomach which worsened to before unknown levels as she read the message inside the cookie.

“You’ll float too, just like Stanley.” She read out loud before rushing out of the room, out into the street, doubling over and throwing up near the sewer drain. Hot tears stung in her eyes as her knees grew weak and she finally had to kneel near her own vomit. Two warm hands placed themselves on her shoulder, before pulling the girl into a warm body behind her. Y/N struggled at first, not knowing who exactly was hugging her, squirming against the body until she heard her father’s raspy voice.

“Shh. That bitch won’t get you. It’s alright.” Richie mumbled into Y/N’s hair as she let loose, crying desperately into her father’s shirt, painful sobs wracking through her body.

“This is why we have to go down there again and kill IT. IT will kill each one of us if we don’t fight it. Don’t you want your daughter to be safe?” Mike argued while Eddie kneeled down next to the pair, passing the girl a tissue who gratefully took it. She mustered up the best smile she could before croaking out a ‘thank you’. Eddie just shook his head with a sad smile, patting her shoulder lightly. Richie had to fight back his own tears.

“Yes. I want to keep her safe more than anything. That’s why we’re going back to that fucked up hotel, pack our shit and fly the fuck home. I’m not going to let her stay here with that psycho clown running around, attacking and threatening my baby.” Richie yelled back, holding her shaky body closer to his own equally shaky body.

“He’s right, Mikey. I thought this was going to be a fun meeting. You should have told us why we were actually coming back.” Eddie joined in on the discussion, helping Richie and Y/N to their feet. Meanwhile, Beverly had called Stan’s number that Mike had given her, curious to find out whether IT’s threat, Guess Stanley Could Not Cut It, was true, what he meant exactly. It was only when she heard a painful sob at the other end of the phone that she realised that it wasn’t just an empty threat. Beverly felt her blood run cold, like it was actively freezing in her veins, as the other losers stopped talking, trying to listen in on the conversation between Bev and Mrs. Uris.

“We’re all very sorry, Patty.” Beverly said before the line went dead and the remaining losers were left in tears, with heavy hearts and thick tears that they tried to blink away. An angry exchange ensued with Richie suggesting to ‘undo’ the promise before storming off with his daughter under his arm, Eddie by his side.

Beverly and Ben left next, not nearly as angry, but mainly heartbroken at finding out about the suicide of someone they loved. Bill and Mike were the only ones left at the Jade of the Orient.

Bill felt shaken up. Stan was dead. And Y/N was just a kid. Admittedly, she was older than they had been when they faced IT for the first time, but she shouldn’t have to face those things at all. No kid, no person should ever face IT. After Richie had lashed out at them, he felt even worse about her being in Derry than he did when he first spotted her. She was actively threatened, and Bill was aware that, for the time she spent in the small town, even if it wouldn’t be for long, she would need to be protected at all times by each of the losers. She was the only losers’ child, as Mike had pointed out throughout lunch, which was strange. After all, Bill and Audra had wanted a child and somewhat challenged their luck until their current project started, Eddie, Stan and Bev were all married so surely something could have happened, but somehow nothing did.

Bill shook off that thought. His eyes travelled back to the sewer where Y/N and Richie had been sitting just a few moments ago. And, as his gaze rested on the devilish thing, he was sure that his ears caught a children’s laughter.

“Please, just let me show you something. Afterwards, you can still decide if you want to leave. But I need you, Big Bill. Please, please stay. People are dying.” Mike pleaded. If there was one person who could get the losers to stay, it was Big Bill. The guy they all had looked up to as some sort of a leader, now as much as they had as children. The roles hadn’t changed over the past 27 years and they wouldn’t change in the next 27 years.

Bill reluctantly agreed, well aware that he would stay with Mike, no matter what he was about to show him.


	3. Chapter 3

Silent tears had been rolling down Y/N’s cheek as Richie drove them back to the Town House. Her whole body felt cold, adrenaline was wearing off and the young girl could feel her throat burning, her joints aching, her eyes stinging as hot tears created an unwelcome contrast on the skin of her cheeks.

Richie was trying to crack her up with jokes, desperate to get any kind of reaction out of her but she remained quiet, safe for the occasional whimper leaving her lips although she bit her lip in hopes of keeping them in. Y/N didn’t want her father to worry more about her than he already did. She knew that she had to keep herself together until they got back home. Home. Where she was safe, where she could build walls and crumble behind them, just like she knew her father would. His walls were more out there but concealed very well. He had always used his humour as a wall to shut the people out, but the wall had a weak spot for his little girl. She was the only one who cared to look behind that wall, the only person he felt comfortable with, enough so to tell her honestly about how he felt.

“We’re not going home, dad.” The girl suddenly spoke up. Richie felt his eyes fill with tears again that he quickly tried to blink away.

“Yes, we are. I’m not arguing about this. I am your father. I say we are going home.” Richie replied, anger seemingly filling his slumped over body. His body felt too heavy to sit upright for another minute. But it wasn’t hot anger that was running through his veins, no, it was ice cold fear.

“Dad, you knew why he was calling from the start. Don’t act like you thought this was going to be a happy little get together with old friends. You threw up after Mike called and I know that it wasn’t just your usual nervous stomach. That wasn’t a new set, not a new place, you knew what you were getting yourself into. And who says that IT will not follow us if we run away now?” Y/N replied angrily. Richie parked the car in front of the Town House, shortly followed by Eddie’s car.

“Listen. We are going to get out of this car, get our shit, and walk away from this place without ever looking back. I am not going to risk your life or mine to fight that stupid bitch again.” Richie told his daughter before getting out of the car, harshly slamming the door behind him.

“So, you would rather see your friends die fighting without you?” she yelled through the hotel lobby where Eddie was already waiting for the pair, ready to walk back to their rooms with them. Eddie was shocked to say the least. The girl who had looked so vulnerable only minutes ago, crying and shaking in her father’s arms, was now looking so incredibly strong and out there, a fearless warrior who was ready to join the losers in their fight against Pennywise. She intimidated Eddie for a moment.

Richie ignored his daughter, instead going with Eddie to their respective rooms. Rather than joining her father, Y/N stayed in the entrance hall, sitting down on the stairs, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands.

“You’re right.” Eddie said softly, walking back down to the girl. “We are cowards and we would rather run from this than face it again, but we have been through a lot as kids and Richie is scared of losing you. You couldn’t imagine what we have seen.”

“So blood spraying out of a fortune cookie and kids that turn into men to kill you are pretty fucking normal in this town?” Y/N asked in return. Eddie remained quiet for a minute, then sighed deeply.

“IT really did pay you a visit, huh?” he asked with a hummed sigh before sitting down next to her.

“I’m assuming that’s what it was. Kids usually don’t turn into adults in the blink of an eye back in LA.” Y/N joked, looking up at Eddie for the first time.

“I’m honestly sorry. But maybe that’s one more reason for you to listen to Richie. He only means well. He’s worried.” Eddie moved one of his arms to rest on Y/N’s back, hoping to provide some sort of comfort in this nightmare of a day. Y/N slung her arm around the skinny man’s waist, leaning against him for a second. He knew that she would remain as headstrong as she was before, after all, she was Richie Trashmouth Tozier’s daughter. The two separated again, Eddie going his way to pack up while Y/N was still sitting on the stairs, trying to understand or even get a grasp on what was going on.

Little did the two know that their beloved Trashmouth was watching their talk, the sweet little interactions, with a heart that felt like it would burst from being so filled with love. For a beautiful moment, everything seemed to be good. His daughter and the man he had more than platonic feelings for were getting along so well, for a moment they looked like they could actually be a family. Like they could grow to be a family. His family.

Richie scurried back into his room, telling himself that he just kept on watching because he feared IT might get back to the girl if he didn’t watch her at all times, telling himself that this was just a stupid childhood crush bubbling up again which he would forget about as soon as he left town, then threw what little clothing he had unpacked back into his suitcase, gathering Y/N’s possessions once he was done.

Ben and Beverly arrived not soon after, walking straight to the bar to get some drinks. Y/N watched them interact; they seemed anxious, stressed out, but Ben seemed strangely determined. Y/N felt weird watching the two from the shadows, thus cleared her throat as Ben and Beverly stepped a little too close to each other for comfort, effectively diverting their focus onto her.

“Might want to keep things PG around here.” She told them with a small smile on her lips. Beverly and Ben gave her a shocked look before Ben chuckled a little, muttering a ‘Peep-peep.’ Which confused Y/N for a second before another voice made her shake off the thought.

“You really are Richie’s kid.” Beverly said with a soft smile directed at the younger girl.

“Yep, she is. And that’s why she’s going home with me. Eduardo! Ándale, let’s go!” Richie replied, raising his voice at the last part to reach Eddie upstairs in his room. Y/N could make out that her father also carried her bag, making her clench her fists in anger and pull it away from him. He, although reluctant, complied. Richie knew that she wouldn’t stop fighting him until he gave in. After all, he wouldn’t act much differently.

“There is something you’re not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew.” said Ben, hopeful for a reaction from the now very distant Beverly. Her eyes weren’t as bright, Y/N noticed. Glassy. Unsure.

“Wait what?” Richie was speechless, confused.

Beverly ignored Ben and Richie as she walked towards the front desk, ringing the bell for someone to help her, but ultimately choosing to pick one herself, in dire need to escape the uncomfortable situation.

“I’ve seen all of us die.” Beverly finally said, knowing that she couldn’t and wouldn’t get out of the situation without talking. Neither the men nor the girl said anything, but Y/N began piecing things together. Or so she thought. Because, admittedly, the girl was still feeling about as smart as she did when she was on the plane with her father. She had caught up snippets of memories during lunch along with being Richie’s mental storage unit, but none of the things the adults were saying made any sense to her, really. And it was starting to irritate her. So, Beverly had seen each of her friends die when they were kids. But why? And how did they fight IT? If they even did fight IT. Would they fight IT again? What even was IT? And what in hell was up with that clown?

Eddie came stumbling down the stairs, two huge suitcases with him, more than ready to leave the hellhole he grew up in when he spotted the four people. Y/N had subconsciously moved closer to her father again, suitcase carelessly dropped on the ground as she, like the adults, was stuck insider her head, trying to understand what the revelation might mean.

“What did I miss?” Eddie suddenly asked, dropping the heavy luggage on the stairs. Everyone was quiet for a moment before Y/N spoke up.

“Beverly has seen you all die, but that’s not really something special here in this town, right? I mean I have barely spent a few hours here and have been told that I would float, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and was almost killed when I tried to take a shower. Oh, and my fortune cookie made me look like a serial killer. This is perfectly normal and I’m not going insane. Right?” Y/N was desperate for someone to tell her that she was fine, that all of them were simply pulling cruel pranks on her, but no one did. The adults simply looked at her helplessly, pain clearly visible on their faces, as they watched the girl struggle with what she had gone through already. Tears were stinging in her eyes, her father trying to pull her into him, but she pushed him away with a whimper, walking away from the adults to sit on the stairs. Y/N felt like her knees were about to give in under her. And she wasn’t about to break down in front of her father. Y/N was too scared it might be the last straw that might make him take her home. Although going home didn’t sound so bad, she felt that this was bigger than just them. Hell, one of their friends had died after being asked to come back, this must be the real shit. The girl, once more, hid her face in her hands, with her elbows resting on her thighs with the intention of blocking everything out.

Hoping to calm herself.

Find comfort in herself.

Eddie laid a hand on Richie’s shoulder as they looked back at the girl who was now sitting on the bottom of the stairs. Richie sniffed shortly before giving Eddie an appreciative smile, lasting until the smaller man turned away from him and shifted his attention to Beverly.

“What do you mean you’ve seen us all die?” Eddie now asked, anxious to hear the answer.

“Yeah cause I gotta be honest, that’s a fucked-up thing to just drop on somebody.” Richie joined in.

The red-headed woman went on to explain her nightmares, causing Eddie to grow hopeful because ‘everyone has nightmares, right?’. Bill and Mike, who had returned to the group, looked rather distressed at the confession, knowing that Beverly’s nightmares weren’t just ordinary nightmares but more. The consequences should they not act. Their future should they not kill Pennywise. And, one after another, the other losers realised just that.

Y/N didn’t listen to their discussions about death, IT, nightmares and what other weird kind of bullshit they had on their minds. The young girl was still too frustrated with herself and them and decided to take a fucking break. She slipped her phone out of her jeans pocket and read the messages her friends had sent her. No one was really worried when she told her friends that she wouldn’t be coming to school because of a family emergency. No one had questioned her, and, seemingly, no one really missed her. The only messages she received were in group chats, asking for homework or whatever, no one had asked the young girl whether she was alright, her family was alright, or to see if she was even still alive.

‘Poor litte Y/N’ a message suddenly popped up. No number, no name, just the message. She tapped on the chat and only seconds later, more messages filled the screen.

‘No one really cares’

‘No one really loves you.’

‘Who are you? She texted back, heart hammering against her chest. The young girl gulped, anxious for an answer.

‘Oh, you know who I am.’

‘I can be anyone I want to be. Like Stanley in the bathroom.’

‘But who are you?’

‘Are you sure you know who you are?’

‘You are IT, right? Why are you doing this and what do you mean?’ Y/N’s fingers were shaking as she hastily hit the keys on her smartphone.

‘You’re scared. And scared children always taste better.’

‘You’ll float, too Y/N. You’ll float with Stanley and Georgie and all the other children. And no one will stop me from taking you.’

‘I can almost smell your fear. Taste it. I’m right there with you.’

And suddenly, pictures were sent to her phone. Pictures from the destroyed bathroom in their room.

Their room.

The door to the hallway.

The hallway.

The stairs.

“Come on, Y/N. We’ve got to go.” Beverly said gently, making the girl gasp as she finally tore her eyes away from the display of her phone. Short breaths were coming from her mouth, heart hammering painfully against her ribcage, almost like it was about to burst out of her chest. She looked at Beverly with fearful eyes, quickly locking her phone as to not show anyone what had just happened. Beverly looked at her, a clear question in her eyes. ‘Are you alright?’ And, silently, with a watery smile and a curt nod, Y/N answered before taking the hand Bev was holding out before her, letting the woman pull her to her feet.

Richie was watching the scene with a small, slightly pained, but mostly happy smile. He loved his daughter and he loved that the losers accepted her as one of them, but he hated that she had to be here, in this place, at this moment.

“You know, it’s no shame to talk. We all had to overcome that when we were children. Especially your father had a hard time accepting that Pennywise was real. I think it took him two or three encounters with IT to realise that none of us were joking.” Beverly said, a small smile gracing her lips as she pulled the shaking figure closer to her.

“I’m not doubting that whatever IT is, is real. I’ve seen it. I think ITs name was Stanley though. IT keeps- kept talking about him when it attacked me.”

“What did the man look like? Richie mentioned the incident several times.”

“He was tall. Curly hair. But at first, he was about my age. Light, curly hair. Brown eyes. Thin lips. Then, I looked away from him for a second and when I looked back, the kid was grown up. His hair was darker, but just as curly. And his wrists… He had cuts on them, leading up his arm. Like he killed himself.” The girl told her, Beverly nodding along with a heavy heart. Pennywise had taken on Stan’s appearance, IT knew what had happened to Stan, hell, IT was probably responsible for Stan’s tragic death!

“I think you might be right. The man you saw could have been Stan. Stanley Uris. He was one of us losers. A kind soul. A gentle soul. He was a bit scared back in the day, but who wasn’t? He always tried to be as rational as possible. I miss him. Stan and his bird book.” Beverly replied, her vision going blurry with unshed tears that she tried to blink away. Y/N nodded, feeling bad about mentioning Stan. She still had many questions but decided not to ask them in fear of causing Bev even more pain.

The pair finally reached the door where Richie was standing, holding the door open for the women before getting engaged in a conversation with someone again.

Just as the hotel door had closed behind them, Y/N received another message. She quickly opened it to see that it was a picture.

Of her back. Walking through the door.

The tiny hairs on her arms and neck stood up straight, her whole body running cold and numb with fear. Slowly, as to not draw more attention to herself, she looked back, just in time to see a clown in a silvery costume and orange hair, the most evil smile on his make up covered face and a single red balloon in his hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Y/N was stiffly following the adult losers to the Barrens. Richie had already tried to figure out what was going on with his daughter, but she refused to tell him. She was scared, yes, but she knew that the losers had already fought IT – and all of them had come out of that alive – so she assumed that she would be safe with them. With her father. And she didn’t want Richie to freak out even further and actually drag her ass home. His friends needed him, so she would be able to suck it up and sit through all that.

Bill slowed his steps a little and stayed a bit behind with Y/N. All the other losers had tried to get her to talk on their walk into the woods in the Barrens, none of them being successful. Richie, at last, asked Bill to try. He was the unspoken leader, Big Bill, of the losers club. Maybe he had the same kind of effect on her as he had on the other losers. Like they were safe with him and could trust him, his intuition and his usually well-chosen words, even when they were down in the sewers, with only a few matches left to light the way, facing Patrick Hockstetter’s body, stumbling through the disgusting greywater.

“Y-you’re awf-f-fully quiet.” Bill said to the girl, hands in his pocket. His stuttering had come back, it was easier to control when he was talking with his friends but with his friend’s daughter, it was strangely difficult. Bill told himself that it was just because she was practically a stranger and he didn’t trust her like the people he had faced IT with. How could he? Surely, no one would blame Bill if he confessed to feelings this way, but he was too ashamed to do just that.

“And you’re stuttering.” She replied, a smirk on her lips, curious to see whether he could take the joke. Bill scoffed.

“Are you alright? All of this is probably a bit much-“

“I’m fine, okay? Please stop asking me. I’m as good as you can be when you’re meeting friends your father couldn’t remember until a few hours ago, bloody and full of your own vomit because your fortune cookie was bleeding on you and some strange creature keeps threatening you that you’ll float with some Stanley and Georgie.” Y/N stopped walking, growing irritated at the many attempts. She appreciated that they were taking care of her, but she didn’t feel like talking, she felt like she couldn’t talk. Because she couldn’t understand, couldn’t express what was going on.

“G-g-Georgie?” Bill asked, tears suddenly springing to his eyes, a little sting in his chest, his heart. The girl just nodded, her arms crossed as she watched him with great caution and confusion.

“Is everything alright?” Ben asked the two, looking back at them, stopping in his tracks. All eyes were on Bill and Y/N now. Curious, nervous, anxious. 

“Who told you about Georgie? Did you see him?” Bill suddenly seemed much more serious to Y/N, it was almost scary. Scratch that, Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. And, although she would later tell herself that it was just her ears playing tricks on her, that it was just the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and bushes, but she could swear that she heard the quiet, happy giggles of a child somewhere in the distance.

Y/N took a step back. “I-IT mentioned him. Is he dead?” She now looked from Bill to her father, who looked at her, his face one of confusion, while Bill tried to swallow his tears. The pain of losing Georgie came back to him, the little boy whose teeth never grew back. The little boy whose photo album wouldn’t be filled with more pictures. The little boy who would never walk through the doors of their house again, in his yellow raincoat and with that stupid little boat in his hands as their beloved mother played ‘Für Elise’. The little boy whose death changed Bill’s whole life. And Bill knew that it was necessary for him to move on, to know that he wasn’t the one to blame for George’s death, that it was that stupid clown and him only, but the guilt was overcoming Bill once more.

“Y/N, George was Bill’s little brother. He died when he was 6 years old. He was killed by Pennywise the clown.” Richie said, stepping closer to his daughter to pull her close. “But when did IT tell you? You didn’t mention him in the bathroom.”

Y/N grew nervous, hands growing sweaty as she subtly tried to touch the phone in her jeans pocket to check that it was tucked away safely, out of reach from the losers. She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying not to act suspiciously, but she knew that her father was looking right through her.

“But IT mentioned him. I’m pretty sure I told you.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest again, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

“Y/N, did you see IT again? We need to know. We can’t protect you if you don’t work with us. IT is dangerous and will not hesitate to kill you.” Mike said, trying to be the voice of reason, but she shook her head vehemently.

“Y/N, please…” Richie was now pleading with his daughter to just tell him. But she shook her head, trying hard to suppress the tears she already felt welling up in her eyes. “I’m good, don’t worry. Nothing happened. IT is not after me.” She finally said with a small, clearly uncomfortably forced smile before she passed the adults and walked deeper into the Barrens.

“Are you guys coming or what?” Y/N yelled after a few steps, when she noticed that she was the only one walking into the unknown area ahead of her. The losers looked at each other, Richie feeling his heart hurt in his chest. It was obvious to all of the losers that she was lying, they didn’t need to know her to see that she was more antsy than she had been before, always fumbling with something, her hands shaking, and she was nibbling on her fingernails when she thought no one was looking. The last one was especially an exhibit for Richie. He had raised her. He had seen her do that more often than he liked.

He saw her nibbling at her fingernails on her first day of school, before she walked into the classroom for the first time. 

He saw her nibbling her fingernails when she was about to go on stage in a school play. 

When he included one of her jokes in his set for the first time. 

When he watched as she tried to tell him about her crush for the first time. 

When they tried to contact the woman they thought might be her mother. And in all those situations, the girl was open and honest with her father, telling him how she felt, telling him that she was nervous or scared and Richie felt his chest grow warm at how much his daughter trusted him. He felt like he had done something right in his messy life. But now, now that they were in Derry, trying to fight something they weren’t sure how to kill – if they even got that far – she was shutting Richie out. And that scared him just as much as it hurt.

Eddie laid his hand on Richie’s shoulder, mustering up an encouraging smile.

“She is your daughter. Obviously, she inherited some of your stupidity. But I’m sure she’ll come around.” Eddie grinned at the taller man, making Richie scoff playfully.

“At least I have a child, fuckface.” Richie smiled back and the group continues their way. That was, until Ben fell through the door, making everyone shriek, Y/N being the loudest, and, due to the shock, she and Eddie jumped to Richie, holding onto his arms. Eddie glanced at the girl, meeting her gaze before his gaze wandered to Richie for a second, to where Richie’s hands gripped the smaller man’s shirt like he had done many years before when they were children, almost anytime surprised them. Both Eddie and Y/N stepped away from Richie. With a sad sigh, Richie watched as Y/N regained her cold composure.

One after another, the losers climbed down into the clubhouse. The losers were so entranced by the familiar, now dirty and fragile looking place they had spent hours upon hours in, they didn’t even notice that Y/N wasn’t joining them down there. She opted to watch them from above. Something about following them didn’t feel right to her. She wasn’t a loser, she had never been a part of their group and so, she was afraid of interrupting that moment of peace. The sweet nostalgia. The cosy memories.

Y/N was watching from above, sitting at the ladder, legs dangling through the hole, as the losers talked about the paddle board incident. About Stan. What a person he was. And, suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt in her chest. Y/N didn’t feel like she should be there. Stan should be here. Stan should be down there, catching up with his friends, laughing about stupid memories, making a plan on how to kill IT.

Rustling leaves. Stones shifting against each other. Twigs breaking under the weight of something.

Y/N’s head whipped around, trying to make out whatever pulled her out of her thoughts. Her nails dug into the soil below her. Heart hammering against her ribcage like it wanted to break out, like it was desperate to break out.

It’s that clown, she thought, hoping to spot something between the trees, it’s coming for me again, but why is it always me?

Finally, she registered a movement in the corner of her eye. A bush. Rustling, shaking lightly. Something was in there. Something-

Richie groaned. His glasses landed somewhere in the room, being harshly pulled from his nose. The palms of his hands pressed against his eyes. A burning pain, the burning pain was back. Worse. More real.

Y/N had turned her head back just in time to watch her father’s figure crumble to the ground.

“DAD!” she screamed, pushing herself to fall through the hole, stumbling towards her father. A sharp pain shot through her knees as she dropped to them, but she barely noticed it as she tried to pull Richie’s hands away from his eyes.

“Dad, it’s alright, you’re alright- Breathe. In and out. Like you taught me. Slowly! Slowly! Dad, please!” she tried to calm her father down, voice shaky, mind racing. Painful gasps escaped Richie’s lips as his daughter comfortingly placed a hand on his shoulder, using the other one to hold onto his hand, squeezing it to help him get into a breathing rhythm. Next thing Y/N knew, as she had helped Richie calm down, Mike was down, groaning in pain and pressing his hands to his eyes in hopes to ease it. Richie, still halfway out of it, stumbles towards Mike, who was taken care of by Bill and Beverly. Eddie, meanwhile, was desperate for his inhalator but tried to resist the urge to shove his hand into his pocket and whip it out as Ben was trying to make sure that Eddie wouldn’t pass out any second.

“Mike, do you remember the smoke-hole bullshit? This is it. The turtle, the-the part when we were going crazy and time travelled right here?” Richie asked him, grinning like a maniac. “This is it. The memories are coming back. Holy shit.” Richie said as he leaned against the wall next to Mike, Bill helping him sit up. Y/N was sitting in the dirt, under the hole, just watching as realisation dawned on each of the losers’ faces. All of them subtly tried to rub their eyes, remembering the stinging sensation that most of them couldn’t endure for too long, opting to flee instead.

Y/N could swear that she heard something moving outside, suddenly remembering what had happened before Richie broke down. She sent a look towards the four adults on the ground, seeing that they were busy trying to pierce together the smoke-hole-ritual, then glanced at Eddie and Ben. Eddie was leaning against the unsteady pole, also slightly leaning against Ben in need of support, eyes closed. Ben, feeling like he was being watched, looked up briefly, spotting Y/N climbing up the ladder.

“Where are you going?” his rough voice echoed through the room, breaking the other losers’ focus. Y/N had climbed up far enough to carefully examine the upside world. She was hoping that she would spot the source of the earlier noise, or something she could use as an excuse. A squirrel or bird or something that would give her the opportunity to breathe and not feel hunted for once since she arrived at the hotel. To her utter relief, she heard another sound, this time clearly spotting a fat squirrel climbing up a tree. An involuntary laugh bubbled up deep in her chest, too quickly to suppress, and she smiled at the group as she jumped off the ladder, facing the adults.

“Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere.” She grinned, walking over to her father, helping him get back to his feet as Richie babbled on about a turtle, how IT arrived and whatnot. But Y/N didn’t listen. The relief was too deeply rooted in her. She was thoroughly enjoying the blissful moments of what felt like freedom. Blissful unawareness was a better word though. Because, what Y/N didn’t know, had she stayed up on the ladder just a little longer, had she watched the outside world just a moment longer, she would have spotted a single red balloon rising up into the air, slowly but steadily. To her, it might not be too much of a worry, had she seen it, but each of the losers knew better.

Pennywise was close.


	5. Chapter 5

A pregnant, solemn silence took over the losers as they held the shower caps in hand, thoughts of Stan flooding each of them uncontrollably. Memories of the first time they admired Ben’s hard work that he told them was nothing. Remembering Richie and Eddie fighting over the hammock, even the smoke-hole ritual didn’t seem nearly as far away anymore.

Ben was sitting with Y/N, animatedly telling her about how much effort he had put into the small club house. Her eyes travelled over the construction, a wondrous gaze raking over the dusty items, the faded posters, the carvings and blemishes that the place had endured over the decades.

“This is fucking incredible.” She breathed. “You’re a genius”

Ben chuckled, tearing his own eyes away from what he had created at such a young age to look at the girl next to him. He, like many of the losers, hadn’t really taken the time to look at her. She didn’t look much like Richie, possibly she took after her mother more look-wise, but the way she talked, the way she acted, the swearing, the messy hair, were so much like her father, it was almost scary. Like a female version of teenager Richie had gotten lost in Derry ages ago, but never aged. Ben’s eyes fell onto a spider in the young girl’s hair, an involuntary grin spreading on his lips.

“What’s up Haystack?” asked Richie suddenly, effectively breaking the comfortable silence.

“Stan really was ahead of his time.” Ben replied, slowly trying to plug the spider away from the mop of hair on the girl. The girl shuddered when she spotted just what he was doing as the other losers chuckled. Those weren’t the happy, almost childlike chuckles Y/N had heard more times than not coming from the members. No. Those sounded broken and, although not watery, they were still thick with unshed tears. Tears they didn’t want to cry. Not again. Not out of disappointment or disrespect towards the man they grew up with, quite the opposite really. Remembering who he was as a kid also made each of them remember what a kind and compassionate soul Stan was. Smart, often acting more like an adult than a child, but the one thing that was crucial about Stanley was that he had reasons for doing what he did. Reasons he carefully thought about. So, although no one dared to speak, they knew that Stan had carefully thought about this and had a reason for doing what he did. They just couldn’t figure out said reason.

“Hey Mike, what are we doing here?” Richie spoke up, finally, diverting the attention, changing the painful topic to another dreadful one. One that scared each of them more than they would like to admit.

“The ritual. It requires a sacrifice.”

“As a sacrifice we can take Eddie.” Richie dryly said, motioning towards the smaller man who now looked at him in a state of shock and something Y/N would almost identify as fear.

“Wait what?” Eddie asked. As Ben, under his breath, mumbled ‘Peep-peep, Richie.’

“You’re little. You fit on a barbeque.” The taller man replied, making his daughter snort in shock. Ben ruffled up her hair at that, a smile on his lips at the sincere reaction of the teen.

“I’m average height in most countries.” Eddie waved Richie off, slightly offended at the comment. “Besides, why are we not sacrificing Y/N? She’s literally my height!”

“Because I still have hopes of growing taller, unlike you.” Y/N fought back, an incredulous smile on her face, trying to hinder the giggles bubbling up inside her from surfacing.

“It’s not that kind of a s-s-sacrifice.” Bill interrupted the bickering, much more serious than Y/N, Eddie and Richie had previously been.

“Your past is buried. But you have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces, the artefacts, that’s why we’re here. That’s what we have to sacrifice. And since Stan isn’t here to find his, I think that we should all be here together to find his artefact.” Said Mike, his voice dark, rough. Y/N knew that it was taking a toll on everyone to be back. How bad it was the first time around, she still didn’t know, but she was curious to find out. 

Her eyes travelled to Eddie, shower cap in hand, then to the tin can on the ground, next to his feet. She got up from her seat next to Ben and moved to sit next to Eddie instead, following his thought, and fishing one of the caps out of the can.

Both of them pulled the caps onto their heads. They shared a glance. Then, their eyes landed on Mike.

“I think we just did that.” Replied Eddie and Y/N nodded along.

One after another, the losers plus one climbed out of the club house, Y/N being the last, gratefully taking Mike’s hand in support. Hastily, she took a few deep breaths, her airways silently thanking her for finally breathing in fresh, clean air. It wasn’t bad, but she had to admit that breathing in the dusty and musty air was getting quite exhausting and she rarely appreciated the cool air in a forest as much as she did in that moment.

“Okay so where do we find our artefacts?” Eddie asked, nervously pacing over the soft soil. Mike took another second, making sure that the girl he had pulled up was alright on her own before considering Eddie’s anxious figure.

“Yeah, I gotta be honest, man,” Richie started, scratching the back of his head, his lips pressed into a tight line, “all due respect, this is fucking stupid, alright? Why do we need tokens, alright? We remember everything. Saving Bev, defeating IT, I mean we’re caught up.”

“That’s not everything.” Mike tried to calm Richie, get him to admit that he didn’t know as much as he liked to say. There were still things Richie, like the other losers, didn’t want to remember. “We fought. But what happened after that? Before the house at Neibolt?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Y/N, not knowing how to feel, stood behind Mike, watching the scene unfold. The group looked dumbfounded for a moment, not even remembering the fight. Slowly, carefully, she strolled a bit away from the group, not wanting to interfere with a moment like that, with a moment as important as that one would be. Once more, she felt like she didn’t belong and she almost started regretting even suggesting as much as following her father to Derry. But what choice did she have? It was in those moments that she felt pitiful for herself, for the lack of a mother, a family. Of course, she was incredibly thankful for her father. She loved Richie dearly, but there were certain moments when she really needed a female adult in her life. Like when she had gotten her first period. Oh lord, how uncomfortable and awkward she felt that day. And how much it hurt to know that her mother had just left her, not wanted her any longer when she was just a baby.

How much it hurt knowing that she didn’t have grandparents like the other kids in class.

How weird she felt when the only family pictures she could bring to primary school while other kids brought pictures of themselves with their grandparents, with their aunts and uncles, cousins, siblings, whatever kind of family they had. She also remembered feeling shy in front of her father that day as she had to ask him about his parents for a homework assignment.

How lost she felt when Richie took her shopping for bras and other clothing. Richie did offer to ask one of his female friends to take her or ask her friends’ mothers to help her out, but Y/N refused. She would have felt even weirder going shopping for underwear with people she barely knew. Hell, she didn’t even want to take her friends in fear of being embarrassed.

The girl felt anxiety building up in her veins, her chest growing tighter, troubling her breathing. With nervous eyes, she searched for her father, who was vigorously shaking his head.

“I’m not letting her alone. I’m going to take my daughter with me.” Richie told Mike before stomping over to her, gently grasping her arms and making her sit down on a tree stump. Richie had noticed that his daughter was breathing unevenly, erratically. He was torn between staying and making a point to his friends and taking his daughter to a quiet place, away from all the trouble that caused her anxiety to skyrocket. The look she gave him was one he understood perfectly though. She didn’t want them to be alone.

“I gotta say… Statistically speaking, if you look at survival scenarios, we’d do much better as a group.” Eddie joined into the conversation, almost anxiously uttering his opinion. From the corner of his eye, he could see Y/N grasping her father’s arm tightly, eyes wide like a young doe, as she was fighting herself. None of the Losers dared to get close to her though, too afraid that Richie might lash out at them.

“Yes. Splitting up would be dumb, man. We gotta go together, alright? We were together that summer, right?” Richie looked to his friends in hopes of them agreeing with him, getting Mike to see how stupid his idea was. Eddie nodded in agreement and Richie got his hopes up. Until Bill spoke up.

“N-no. Not that w-whole s-summer.” And with that, they remembered the fight. They remembered how they physically had to separate Richie and Bill so they wouldn’t smash each other’s heads in, how they spent time separated from each other, each of them too stubborn to face what, deep down, each of them knew would be necessary.

“What happened?” asked Y/N, voice shaky, eyes innocently looking up at her father, then the other Losers. She had managed to calm down enough to speak, but she knew that she was still on the verge of breaking down. No one answered, each of them just let their gaze wander over the greens surrounding them. The trees started losing their leaves and they instead graced the ground, covering the soil in endless shades of red, yellow, orange and even a few brown spots.

“I’ll bring you back to the hotel, then get that stupid token.” Richie finally said, reaching out a hand to help his daughter, who suddenly seemed a lot smaller than she really was, up. Gratefully, she grasped it before sliding her hand up, trying to find some steadiness and comfort in grasping her father’s arm until they were out of what she felt was a danger zone.

The forest made her feel alerted. Something could be lurking behind every tree. 

Behind every bush. 

Behind every tree stump. 

There was room to flee, yes, but at what cost? If they ran and were to be separated, she would easily fall victim to whatever IT was. Y/N didn’t know her way around and Richie wasn’t sure he still knew the place like he did when he was younger and spent almost every day of a whole summer lurking in the shadows, hiding away from the Bowers gang, making plans of how to kill IT and just enjoying the warmth of the summer that took not only his innocence, but also his friends’.

“I’ll join you.” Eddie spoke up, stepping closer to the leaving pair as each of the Losers awoke from their little trance, daring to move now that Richie accepted that he had to find his token on his own. Neither Richie nor Y/N said anything, instead, they started walking, hoping that they were somewhat on the track they had taken earlier to get to the clubhouse. Once they had reached the edge of the Barrens, however, the Losers wordlessly split up and went their own ways. Where to exactly, no one knew. They went wherever their feet, their subconscious brought them. Maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe something bigger than each of them was leading them, something that they knew existed, but they couldn’t remember yet. It was irking them. Teasing them. Lost somewhere in the back of their minds with the rest of their memories of the last summer. About to burst through that thin layer of blissful ignorance, it just needed a little push to break through to the surface. 

All of the Losers gave in and started their little journey through the place they grew up in. Well, everyone except for Richie, Eddie and Y/N.

“Eds, I appreciate your concern, but Mike said that we all have to do this on our own. You should get a head start, we all know your little legs slow you down.” Richie said, sluggishly joking around. He didn’t have the energy to make fun of his friend now. Not now that his heart was beating restlessly like a kid on Christmas morning and he knew that he had to leave his daughter, the only family he had left, to fend for herself.

“Don’t call me that. I want to be there for you two. She’s your daughter, that makes her a Loser by blood. Besides, I just wanna make sure that you don’t up and leave with her.” Eddie smiled at the pair and, with that, Y/N felt how her chest filled with warmth. She hadn’t ever known a family bigger than her and her father, but knowing that at least one more person, if not the whole Losers Club was right beside her, made her feel like she belonged. Like she had an identity, was a person important to something bigger than being your average high school student.

Y/N gave the man a warm, genuine smile. “I wouldn’t let him leave.”

“I know, little one. I know.” Eddie smiled back at her, laying a hand on her shoulder, not sure how affectionate he could be with the girl without it becoming weird. After all, she was almost like a new addition to the mismatched family of losers and he didn’t want her to feel left out just as much as he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable or suffocated by the affection shown.

“Watch it, I’m going to outgrow you. There is still hope for me.” She smirked as they slowly started making their way to the hotel. Richie scoffed, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, squirt. I don’t think you’ve grown in the past six months and- “

“Fuck off, dad.”

“Don’t tell me to fuck off, without this smart mouth here, you wouldn’t exist.” Richie reminded both her and Eddie, making the pair cringe.

“Beep-Beep, Richie.” Eddie said as he felt himself shudder against his will. Only moments later, a harsh wind blew their way, sweeping the hair from their faces, creating ripples of shivers on their bodies.

“I think I’m gonna leave you guys alone. It’s not far anymore and I feel like I have to go elsewhere.” Eddie said, awkwardly mustering the father-daughter-duo.

“You’re not gonna make sure that I won’t run off with her?” Richie asked, confused at Eddie’s sudden change of plans.

“I trust you, Richie.” Eddie replied, lips twitching up into a playful yet shy smile. Y/N couldn’t hold back her grin at the gentle exchange between the men and watched happily as Richie stepped closer to the smaller, insecurity-ridden man, wrapping his arms around him in an almost therapeutic hug. Obviously, they hoped to see each other again later that day, but were they sure they actually would?

“Come here, squirt. Group hug.” Richie motioned for her, lifting one of his arms to give the girl room as Eddie nodded encouragingly. Joyfully, she complied and wrapped her arms around the two men, as far as they would reach.

“Stay safe.” Y/N whispered as she felt a sudden pull in her chest. It was unexpected, hit her out of nowhere and coating her in an uncomfortable cold. The uncertainty of the situation, the dangers connected to each of them going their own way finally caught up to her and, as it seemed, not only her. As the men heard the raw concern in her voice, they hugged her just a little closer and a little tighter in hopes of consoling her in some way.

“Don’t worry, I will. I’ll see you later in the library and all of us will be fine, alright?” Eddie replied, knowing that he wasn’t speaking the truth. He knew that splitting up was the most dangerous thing they could do. He knew that they might not all return to the library that day. He knew that IT was after them – and IT was seeking revenge. But he felt that, in that situation, it would be more important sugar-coating the whole situation and not worrying her too much rather than telling her about the actual risks of the situation.

“You two stay safe. I’ll be waiting for you.” Eddie told them as he pulled out of the comfort of their arms, leaving to go his own way, not knowing which horrors would be waiting for him as he would be looking for a simple artefact to sacrifice. Richie smiled, nodding a little, then laid a hand on his daughter’s back, pushing her forward. Not before she could wave to Eddie one last time though. Eddie smiled and nodded in reply.

The Tozier-Duo walked in silence for a bit. Until Y/N decided that she couldn’t stand the tension for another moment and decided to speak up with a question that she had been dying to ask for a bit now.

“What is it with you and Eddie, Dad? Have you always been this close?”


	6. Chapter 6

Richie felt his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach as his daughter uttered the words. He felt his whole head grow hot, from his neck to the tips of his ears. His heartbeat quickened and nausea took over his body. Richie felt that he was about to stumble, too far in his head to focus on mundane things like walking. And breathing.

Y/N noticed the change in behaviour in her father. She expected him to nervously joke, but when he fell silent, she knew that she must have hit him hard.

“Dad are you alright?” she asked carefully, stopping in her tracks. Richie kept on walking for a few steps, until he noticed that she wasn’t following him anymore. His back was bent, turned to his daughter, as he fumbled with his hands. He remained quiet, nodding his head.

“Yeah, I’m good, squirt. Let’s keep going, alright?Gotta get that fucking token.” Richie finally replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket but he didn’t make a move to walk. Slowly, almost like she was approaching a young deer, Y/N stepped closer to her father’s insecure figure. Her eyebrows were furrowed, face scrunched up with worry, and she felt her own heart drop. A shaky hand reached for her father’s arm, the sudden touch making the man jump in surprise.

Sad eyes met her own worried ones. She could see tears welling up behind the thick glasses and, as if acting on instinct, wrapped her arms around her father’s middle, hugging the man tightly. It seemed that her action was the straw that broke the camel’s back and within a second, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier broke down, sobbing desperately in his daughter’s arms.

“Dad I’m here. You’re alright. We’re alright.” Y/N whispered, overwhelmed with the situation. She didn’t know what to do, seeing her father this vulnerable was, despite the occurences in Derry, still mostly unfamiliar to her. A strange sight. Most of the time, she was the one needing support, leaning onto her father, receiving a heartfelt hug and a joke that ultimately helped her go on.

Richie hugged his daughter tighter for a moment, his knees buckling under the weight of the world on his shoulders. Both of their knees were close to giving out so the young girl did what she could to carry their figures to a nearby bench.

Richie let go of his kid, instead opting to hide his face in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. He hated this. Feeling this. Being this. He didn’t even know who or what he was. He just knew that it hadn’t been right. Not back in the day. Not when he grew up. Not when he felt his heart beat out of his chest as Eddie climbed into the hammock with him. Not when he felt his heart break and drop out of his ass when Eddie broke his arm. Not when he heard how Eddie snapped at his mother, defending his friends and growing into the strong soul he had gotten to know that summer many years ago. Not when Bower’s cousin told him off, when Bower’s called him a fag and made him leave the arcade, his safe place.

It was alright for other people to be gay, but surely not for him. Someone who makes jokes for a living and is dependent on what the public thinks of him. Someone who had a daughter whose mother he couldn’t remember.

“Dad,” Y/N spoke up, voice raspy and pregnant with unshed tears, “I love you, you know that, right?”

Richie nodded.

“And do you know what could change that?” she continued to ask.

Richie shook his head, a sharp pain in his abdomen telling him that he was about to hear something he wouldn’t like. He didn’t dare to look up at her face. He wasn’t ready to face the disappointment on her face, the hurt in her eyes.

“Absolutely nothing. I love you for the asshole you are. You are infuriating, your jokes are inappropriate more often than not, you make fun of my mistakes- “

“Aren’t you supposed to say nice things, squirt?” Richie peeked up at her a little, a warm wave of hope filling his chest.

“Don’t interrupt me, I’m having a moment. You, all in one, may seem like a terrible human being to others. But not to me. You make people laugh, you care about your friends so much, you came back to your friends for a promise you made 27 years ago, you took care of me all my life when you could have given me away as easily as my mother has. What I want to say is that nothing could ever make me hate you.” She continued honestly. Richie sniffed, a smile now on his lips. Silent tears were still running down his cheeks.

“Not even… this?” Richie asked, voice hoarse.

“You’ll find out when you tell me what this is.” His daughter replied, a teasing smile on her lips. Richie appreciated the normalcy she tried to bring to the situation.

“This is…” Richie took a shaky breath. “This is me liking Eddie. Not only as friends.” He finally admitted. He heard a squeal beside him before his daughter’s arms engulfed him. A chuckle of relief escaped his lips as he just enjoyed the new feeling. The feeling of being out of the closet he denied hiding in all his life.

“Dad, a lot of people are gay. That’s who you are and who you have always been. It won’t make a change. I love you, dad.” Y/N whispered to Richie and he swore he could feel his heart jump out of his chest in joy. He held onto Y/N’s arms, relishing in the comfort she provided.

“I love you too, squirt. Just… Please do me a favour and don’t tell anyone yet.” Richie mumbled as the duo moved apart. She contently agreed and, with much lighter hearts, they made their way to the hotel.

The easiness of the moment didn’t last long, however. With every step they took, leading closer and closer to the dreaded hotel, the duo felt their enthusiasm fade away. It wasn’t until they came to a stop in front of the old, worn-out doors that they realised how little they liked the situation the pair found themselves in. Hunched over with the weight of the uncertainty surrounding them, they considered each other’s faces before they slung their arms around each other again. For a sweet, ignorant moment, Y/N felt that everything would be alright. That she would hide away in her and her father’s room, patiently wait for her father’s and the other Losers’ safe return and then… Well, what then?

Y/N shook her head a little at the looming question, telling herself not to worry too much about just that for the moment and, instead, savour the warmth of her father’s hug.

Richie held his daughter by her arms to push her away a little, really looking at her face for a moment, hoping to commit every single detail, every freckle and scar, to his memories. Just in case this would be the last time he saw his own flesh and blood. Richie really hoped this wouldn’t be it, but with that psychotic bitch of a clown running around, he just couldn’t be sure.

The harsh autumn air pulled them out of their comfortable trance and Richie cleared his throat of the lump that had started to restrict his airways.

“Okay, listen up, Y/N. This is going to be hard.” Richie started. He wanted to add a dirty joke in hopes of lighting up the mood but bit his tongue instead. “Get yourself a weapon. A knife or something. Just anything you can defend yourself with. And then, I want you to stay in the room and not open the door to anyone except for me. Scratch that, just don’t let anyone in. I’ll be back to pick you up right here the second I find that fucking stupid token. What else? Uh…” Richie scratched his chin, thinking thoroughly about what they had done to wound IT, to keep it away from him, but his mind was blank.

“Oh! Stay away from the drains!” Richie finally added, a little proud of himself for thinking of that last comment although he had to fight his body’s urge to shudder at the memory of the Marsh’s blood-stained bathroom.

“I will, dad. Don’t worry about me. Please be careful. I know you can be a reckless shit at times.” Y/N mumbled as her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. Richie’s breath hitched in his throat as he pulled his daughter close to his heart one more time.

“I promise, squirt.” He mumbled in return, a sorrowful smile on his lips. He hated himself for putting her through all this, making her see and encounter the things he did many years ago. But he secretly also felt relieved. Almost happy that she was there with him to encourage him, bring him back to the ground when panic took over, and, finally, to meet the people he considered family many years ago and was starting to grow closer to again.

“I’ll see you later. I love you, you little shit.” Richie finally said, pulling out of her hug and taking a step back.

“I love you too, you huge shit.” Y/N replied, stepping towards the door. One hand wrapped around the door handle, the cold metal soothing against her sweaty palms. She felt her heart aching in her chest, the wish to cry out loud for her father to not leave her grew rapidly in her stomach. Tears stung in her eyes as she watched her father turn his back to her. What would she do without him?

Y/N’s eyes followed the lanky figure of her father grow smaller with every step he took into the unknown direction. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and Richie turned around, facing her again. He took a look at her. The young girl who had seen horrors, too many of them already, but had yet to face the personification of a nightmare in a fight for life and death. Richie knew that IT was toying with her, just like it did with each of them, but he couldn’t help her.

Not right now.

Not if he wanted his friends to see the sun rise another day.

Y/N mustered up the most reassuring smile she found in her, hand raising to wave at her father before finally stepping into the musty old hotel. The door swung closed behind her, creaking threateningly.

With dragging feet, she made her way through the entrance hall, her figure hunched over with fear. Slow steps finally took her to the right room door where she fished out the spare room key from one of her pockets before entering. Once Y/N found herself in the security of her room, she made sure the door was closed properly, a relieved sigh escaping her lips. She allowed her body to break down, dropping to her bed, and closed her eyes for a moment.

It wasn’t long until she felt that she was drifting off, her mind hazily floating in that state between a deep slumber and full consciousness. Y/N was roughly pulled back to reality, though, as she heard a sound in the room. Like wood creaking under the weight of a living being. A being that had to be bigger than the mice she assumed were roaming the place.

Scratching. Finger nails on wood.

Another step.

And another.

Something was crunching.

The sound dulled.

Y/N’s heart felt like it had jumped to her throat. Her senses were heightened. Her body was shaky as she rolled herself off the bed, creeping behind the next bed, the one closest to the window instead of the door.

More steps. Faster steps. Shorter steps. They grew louder and louder.

Y/N…

The sound of her own blood rushing through her veins filled her ears as she slowly moved. Crawling on her hands and knees. Hoping to find a spot to hide.

‘Find yourself a weapon’ Her father’s words echoed in her mind.

She cursed herself for not doing as her father told her. The steps continued. She heard them. Heard the sickly sound of drops falling to the ground. Y/N felt the bile rise to her throat with fear of what might be dropping to the ground. Drop. After drop. After drop.

Oh Y/N…

A voice sounded in her head. A voice she knew not to be her own. A voice that was disturbingly familiar. But it never reached her ears.

Poor little baby.

Again. It sounded as though the voice was inside her. Replacing the voice of her own thoughts. 

It sounded like IT was in her head.

A shrill laugh filled the room. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, eyes carefully scanning the room to find the source of the sudden sound. The real sound.

More steps. Angry stomps. Menacing. Threatening.

And suddenly, they stopped. IT should be in her sight now. But IT wasn’t.

Something wet dropped to her shoulder. Her blood ran cold. She didn’t want to turn around. Her mind screamed at her to run. Run away. As far as possible. But her body acted on its own accord.

She turned her head and came face to face with the clown. Blood was dripping down its chin. Mouth wide open, teeth stained with blood. IT’s yellow eyes had nothing human in them as the clown suddenly laughed.

“Boo!” IT growled, Y/N jumped away just in time to escape the teeth. Uncontrollable screams escaped her lips. Claws rather than hands were reaching out to her, trying to pull her closer. The girl rolled around, desperately pushing herself up from her knees to run. The bathroom door was still closed but it seemed like the best option.

As if on cue, IT untangled its body, following her the girl almost mechanically as she stumbled towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. She leaned her full body against it, hoping to keep it closed. IT’s claw stabbed through the door. A sharp, throbbing pain shot through her arm.

“Poor little thing, living a lie.” IT taunted the young girl. She shut her eyes tightly, body still pressed against the door.

“You’re not real, this is not real.” She whispered. “I’m in my bed in LA, this is a nightmare and none of this is real. I’m just dreaming.”

“Believe me, little Y/N. This is real.” IT replied, almost gleeful of the situation. The next thing she heard was a pop, then deafening silence. Y/N felt her knees buckle, her body slowly slid down the door, welcoming the cool tiles below her. She remained silent, waiting for a new move by the creature, but receiving none.

A throbbing sensation spread through her arm and she winced as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Y/N’s ears were filled with one sound only. The almost droning sound of her blood flowing through her ears. Her heart was hammering painfully against her ribcage. Bile hit the back of her throat as she gasped desperately for air. A tingling sensation shot through her body, starting at the very tips of her fingers and leading up to her chest where her lungs were screaming for oxygen. 

Thoughts of her father filled her mind. Memories of him helping her through anxiety attacks. Memories of him telling her how to breathe. Rhythm. 

‘In and out.’ Richie coaxed her, holding her cold hands in his own. ‘Slowly, Y/N.’

‘’m t-tryin’’ she mumbled out, the tingling in her lips uncomfortably familiar.

‘I know, squirt, I know. Come on, I’ll help. Breathe in.’ her father said gently, softly, as to not scare her. He squeezed her hand, signalling her to breathe in. She tried to follow his directions, but panicked gasps hindered her. 

‘Shhh, shh… It’s alright. Don’t worry. Just try to breathe.’ Richie continued, relieving the pressure on her hands, silently telling her to breathe out. She tried to do as she was told, struggling, but letting out the air in her lungs until Richie squeezed her hands again. 

‘You’re doing so good, squirt. I’m so proud of you.’ Y/N smiled a little as her father talked to her, soothing her, comforting her. Slowly, her breathing evened and the young girl felt like she was in control of her body again. 

Control. 

Regain control. 

Instead of her father squeezing her hands, Y/N balled her hands into fists, pressing them closed, her fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palm as she tried to breathe in, releasing the pressure as she tried to breathe out. 

Richie. She was missing her father. 

Breathe in. Squeeze. Hold it. Breathe out. Let go.

Again, and again, and again. 

The familiar tiredness washed over her body, slumping with exhaustion as her shaky breaths evened out, her airways relaxing. Her body eased up, uncramping as she felt a wary sense of safety wash over her. 

Some time passed. Minutes, maybe hours, maybe seconds, until she found the energy in her exhausted body to fight herself up onto her feet. She peeked through the hole IT’s claw had left in the door, carefully watching the room. Nothing moved. Not a single shadow. Everything was eerily quiet. Her eyes finally travelled through the bathroom she continued to hide herself in for the moment, landing on her scared reflection in the broken mirror. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, knowing that death was reaching for her. 

Y/N’s eyes looked down at the sink, then her gaze travelled to her arm. Blood was running down her arm, dripping down the tips of her fingers. It wasn’t enough to be dangerous, she was sure of that, but she still didn’t want to risk the wound getting infected. Besides, she felt vulnerable in the bathroom, near the drain, the place Richie told her to avoid. 

Hesitantly, she walked closer to the sink. Something blinked. She stopped in her tracks. It took Y/N a moment to realise that it was just shards of the mirror lying innocently in the sink, reflecting the sunlight that made its way through the dirty window. 

Y/N considered the glass, the sharp tips and edges for a moment. She lifted one of the handy pieces, twirling it around between her fingers before deciding that it would do as a weapon. At least for now. 

The girl moved through the room, the shard tucked into the back-pocket of her jeans, in hopes of finding anything to patch her arm up with, but ultimately coming up with nothing. 

With an angry grumble, she wrapped a towel around her arm and washed the drying blood off her hands. Then, Y/N walked back to the door and listened for a noise. Any little sound from the actual room. But still, nothing. Absolute silence.

With sweaty palms, she opened the door. The room was empty. Empty, except for a single red balloon. For a moment, it seemed ridiculous. A monster that easily could kill her and half of Derry over the course of a day just up and left, leaving nothing behind except for a stupid red balloon, the maybe least intimidating object she had ever encountered. She scoffed, feeling almost offended at the simplicity of the moment. 

That was, until the balloon turned a little and she could see what was written on it.


	7. Chapter 7

Numbness took over. It was like she was in no control whatsoever over her body. Like her mind had shut off, and she had turned into a puppet, being controlled by a vicious being, not wanting any good for her.

Almost comically, she popped the balloon before throwing on a new, unbloodied and untorn jacket. She struggled to put it on over the towel slung around her arm to somewhat stop the bleeding, but it worked in the end and, finally, she left the room. The hasty movement of walking down the stairs caused a stabbing sensation in the wound, but she felt she needed to get away from the place. Away from the clown. Anywhere in that god forsaken town seemed safer than the hotel room she was attacked in twice.

A harsh wind blew in her face. The cold air of late September bit at her face but calmed her a little. The stinging felt good, almost natural and normal. This was a sensation she knew. This was something she had encountered several times before. When her father was on tour with her and they visited northern states in the autumn months, for one. Or when they packed their bags short before Christmas one year and decided to spend their holidays up in the mountains, spending their days watching Netflix with hot cocoa because they realised that it was actually fucking freezing up there.

All in all, it just felt like something that naturally occurred and happened. A wound caused by claws from a psychotic clown-being that was actually some supernatural being in a place it shouldn’t have been at really wasn’t close to being normal. And it scared her. It scared Y/N to the point where she wondered what the next day would be like. Or the day after. She wondered if she would ever fall asleep without finding the quietness suspicious. She wondered if she would ever walk down the streets at night without being scared by the rustling of leaves because it could be IT. She wondered if, once they left Derry, her life would ever go back to normal.

It wouldn’t be, she thought, not if that damn clown was right.

Slow steps took her through the streets. They were mostly empty except for the occasional family passing her, happily laughing with their children around them. Y/N could swear that she caught something of a ‘canal festival’ but decided to ignore it for now. It didn’t seem important to her situation. What was important, was finding a drug store to fix herself up a little. Maybe being in a lively place where people could be witness to whatever the clown might do. Her hand kept twitching towards the shard in her pocket. The small object made her feel a little less helpless.

“Uhm, excuse me, ma’am.” Y/N finally pressed out as she spotted a relatively young woman. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in messy locks, her face one Y/N decided she could trust for the moment.

The woman looked up from her phone, curious as to who stopped her in her tracks.

“Do you know where the next drug store is? I’m kind of new around here.” Y/N asked, trying to smile a little to seem less tense, but the stinging of the towel loosely rubbing against the wound was getting worse and worse. It wasn’t yet unbearable, but it was beyond the point she could nor wanted to tolerate much longer.

“Oh, of course. It’s on Center Street.” The unnamed woman replied, a confused expression on both of their faces as she tried to explain the walk to Y/N. She thanked the woman before making her way through the foreign streets, a little unsure, but she didn’t have another choice. Y/N had managed to run out of mobile data just the other day, so google maps wouldn’t be of any help.

Once she had turned into different streets two or three times, the girl started to notice the streets were slowly getting crowded with people. Everything seemed a lot more alive and she felt herself relax at the sight of children as well as adults walking down the streets. From there on, it wasn’t much farther until she found herself on Center Street, drug store in sight. An involuntary smile of relief tugged on her lips as she opened the door, stepping into the kind of run-down place. A slightly musty smell filled her nose, along with the sharp smell of medical alcohol. Instead of bothering her, though, like it would under any other circumstances, she felt at peace, welcoming said smell.

Quickly, she moved around the store, looking for disinfectant and bandages. The place was a little unorganised, like it hadn’t been taken proper care of in a long time. Once she had grabbed what she needed, Y/N noticed that she had no purse with her, meaning, she didn’t have any money on her.

“Fuck.” She mumbled, examining the products in her hands.

Someone was screaming, followed by hectic stumbling before she heard a door open and saw a familiar face run through the store. All eyes were on Eddie. Y/N quickly looked around, ducked down a little, and stuffed the disinfectant, cotton pads, bandages and whatever else she needed in the pockets of her jacket and sweatshirt before getting up. She watched as Eddie struggled to open the door before he left in his still panicked state. Quickly, the young girl moved to follow him.

Her vision almost blurred with tears of pure joy as she saw Eddie’s figure mere steps away from the door.

“Uncle Eds-“ she started, pure horror marking her face. Y/N wished that Eddie hadn’t heard her, but he turned around as if she had never called him anything else. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stood still for a moment, questioning why she was here and not at the hotel. Warily, his eyes remained on the insecure girl, outweighing the possibility of her being a trick by IT, but Eddie decided that there was no way in hell IT would call him ‘Uncle Eds’ and so, he moved fast to embrace Y/N.

The second he came closer, Y/N started sobbing. She hugged the man tightly, burying her face in his jacket, letting her tears drop freely. Eddie surely wouldn’t mind. Especially not as his clothing was already dirtied with whatever the black substance on him was.

Carefully, Eddie held the girl, at first awkwardly patting her back, but finally relaxing a little himself. After that nightmare, a familiar face was very much appreciated.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie finally asked, puzzled by her presence.

“Uhm… There was… IT was in the hotel room. And it got me,” she moved her hurt arm a little, “So I went outside and got something to treat it.” Eddie’s eyes widened at that, gently shoving the girl into a lonely alley where he made her sit.

“Show me.” Eddie said, worry prominent in his voice. Y/N complied, very carefully taking off the jacket. Eddie winced a little once he saw the blood on the towel. She removed that as well and Eddie was immediately thrown back to the day when he had patched up Ben after his run in with Bowers. He smiled a little at the memory of the strange bunch.

“What did you get, Y/N?” Eddie asked, looking up at the girl’s face. Sheepishly, she pulled the few appliances out of her sweatshirt and jacket, handing them to Eddie. His eyebrows furrowed a little, deep in thought, before he got to work.

“Why don’t you have a bag for those?” he was focused on the wound, but still a little curious.

“Because we need to take care of the environment.” She replied stiffly. Eddie looked up at her again, the look on his face silently asking her if he looked that stupid. With a sigh, she tried again.

“Because they forgot to give me one. They were too busy watching you struggle with the door.” Eddie looked at her, an annoyed look on his face. Why did Tozier’s always feel the need to tease him? 

“Because I forgot to pay.” She finally admitted through gritted teeth, sugar-coating the act.

“You stole all this?!”

“Shh! We don’t want to get caught, now do we?”

“WE?! This is your doing!”

“You’re using this shit. We’re in this together now, asshat.” Y/N whisper-yelled at the older man. To Eddie, it felt almost like bickering with Richie. Just less swear words and insults thrown his way. He shook his head but chuckled a little as he got back to work on her arm.

“What?” Y/N asked, cringing visibly as Eddie disinfected the wound.

“This just reminds me of what the Losers and I once did.” Eddie replied, continuing to tell her how Ben had stumbled into them, how they had seen him all beaten-up, how they had their first actual encounter with Beverly that day, too. How Richie hadn’t let him off, not for a single second, as he tended to Ben’s wounds. Y/N smiled a little at the story, smile deepening when she saw the look on Eddie’s face as he told her about the bickering between him and Richie.

“Have you and… my father always been this close?” Y/N finally asked, thumb nervously flying up, teeth carefully digging into the nail. Eddie blushed violently at the question, not sure how to reply to it. The small man awkwardly coughed, thinking of Myra, his wife, for the first time since arriving. Were he and Richie close? Close enough for anyone to assume something would be going on between them?

“How did you… Why do you think we’re close? I mean all of us Losers are really close friends and- I mean- technically… We have all gone through trauma together. Something like that really brings you closer together.” Eddie stammered.

“Can I be honest with you?”

Eddie nodded.

“You always follow him around. You’re always standing close to him. You’re the only one who offered to walk us back to the hotel. You two mercilessly tease each other. More so than the other Losers. You both just always take that extra step, you know what I mean?” Y/N asked, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He gulped a little. A cold wind blew through the alleyway, slightly cooling Eddie’s burning cheeks. His face resembled a tomato.

Now that he thought about it, actively thought about his actions, Eddie really did notice that he was closer to Richie than the other Losers. Not because he favoured Richie, definitely not, he would have felt incredibly lost as a kid without Big Bill around to lead him. Without Stan to back up his opinions. Without Mike educating him and the others on the history of Derry, warning them about the dangers this place hid. Without Ben who stayed with Eddie as he ran out of medicine and Bill raced into town on silver to get a new inhaler. Without Bev who protected him more times than he could count. But with Richie, it had always been a little different.

Eddie remembered how often he had climbed into the hammock with Richie, openly infuriated at Richie’s disregard towards the rules, but secretly excited he got to do it again.

Eddie remembered how often he had bickered with Richie, throwing insults and swear words at each other without missing a beat, not stopping until one of the other Losers made them.

Eddie remembered how often they messed around together in the quarry, water fights, pushing each other into the water. Eddie always struggled with himself those days. The germs and potential dangers emitted from the quarry held him back. Until Richie challenged him. Until Richie pushed him in. Until Richie came and did something.

“I- uhm… I’m not sure… This is probably just one-sided. I mean according to Richie I’m probably a push-over anyway.” Eddie mumbled, hopeful that she would disagree. And she did. A shake of her head was enough to make Eddie’s heart leap out of his chest as he wrapped the bandages around the girl’s arm.

“What is this?” Y/N finally asked, catching Eddie by surprise.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked nervously.

“You said ‘this is probably just one-sided’ so what is ‘this’?”

Eddie finished wrapping her arm up, stopping still. Well, what was it? Did he feel more for Richie? But he was married, and he was sure he loved Myra. In some way at least. He wouldn’t have married Myra if he hadn’t. Right?

Eddie couldn’t deny the way he felt. When he first saw Richie again after all these years, he felt a different spark than with the other Losers. Like a bubble of air that had been caught under the ice all winter long had finally burst through the slowly melting ice, popping at last. It was rapid, strange, unexpected yet so welcome.

But hadn’t he felt that way for Myra too some time earlier in their relationship? Eddie wasn’t sure. He really wasn’t. He couldn’t even remember if he had felt somewhat of a spark when they had met. Richie had already teased him about the resemblance between his late mother and his wife and how their marriage must have been a result of his mommy-issues. It had hit close to home when Richie uttered those words but for what reason? Because Eddie felt insulted and loved Myra? Or because Richie was spot on with his suggestions?

“I don’t know.” Eddie finally croaked out. He seemed equally, if not more disturbed than Richie had only hours earlier. “I- I think… I mean I have a wife. I’m married. I don’t think I could… Richie means a lot to me. I know that much. But I never thought about how much and in what way…” Eddie felt hot embarrassment rise in his chest. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment. His lips quivered. Shame nagged on him, tearing him apart although he didn’t know why exactly.

Y/N nagged on her lower lip. She never knew how to act around Eddie. She had already had a soft spot for Eddie in her heart. He reminded her a lot of herself. Anxious but brave when need be, careful and calculating, but still very dependent on his heart. She shuffled a little closer to Eddie, carefully wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s alright to feel that way. It’s okay to be gay.” Y/N mumbled, making Eddie sob into her shoulder.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asked, voice strained as he muttered. Y/N simply nodded in reply.

“Do you know if Richie… If he feels… the same?” Eddie was now anxiously fiddling with his fingers, scared to hear the answer the young girl would give him.

“Well I know if he does. He just asked me not to tell anyone. You’ll have to find out yourself.” She smirked a little, winking at him and, judging by the huge grin spreading like a wildfire on Eddie’s lips, she was sure that he knew exactly what she meant.

Eddie sat up a little straighter again, wiping his eyes with a dry spot on his otherwise dirtied jacket before standing up. He had pocketed the items Y/N stole.

“Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.” He said, holding out his hand for the girl to take. She did, and was helped up rather clumsily, but she appreciated the effort. The two made their way back to the street, where Eddie stopped a taxi to take them back to the place Y/N now dreaded the most.

Y/N fidgeted in the car. Playing with the zipper on her jacket, fiddling with something on her jeans, toying with the shard she had moved from her jeans pocket to the one on her jacket, it went on and on, until she started toying with the top of her bandages that peeked out under the slightly rolled up jacket and sweatshirt sleeve. Eddie swatted her hand away and gave her a pointed look.

“What has you so wound up?” he asked, and she just shrugged in reply. Maybe, if she didn’t speak it out loud, it wouldn’t be true. Maybe that would save her dignity and whatever of her sanity she had left since arriving in the forsaken town that is Derry.

“Come on, you can talk to your uncle Eds.” He smiled at her, a teasing smile, asking her to join in on the friendly banter. She didn’t.

“I’m sorry for calling you that, Eddie.” Y/N mumbled, turning her back a little towards Eddie, looking out the window instead, watching the world pass by. The town looked so pretty, so calm and peaceful. It was incredible to Y/N that something as evil as IT could be lurking somewhere among them.

“No, no…” Eddie’s face was furrowed, fearing that he might have said something wrong, something to push the girl away from him. He wanted to protect the girl, not push her away from him. “I-I appreciated it. Please don’t feel sorry for calling me that!”

Y/N smiled a little, but remained as inexplicably cold towards Eddie as she had been since climbing into the stuffy car. The heater was at full blast, giving the car an uncomfortable heat contrast to the chilly outside. It was like Y/N had been exchanged in the few seconds Eddie hadn’t paid attention, when he had gotten into the cramped car and checked his seatbelt twice, thrice to make sure that it really would protect him.

“What’s going on, little one?” Eddie asked, met with only a shrug and a soft sigh in reply. He wiped his face with his hand, it still smelt like disinfectant that he had used on the girl (and, admittedly, a little on himself) earlier. It made him smile for a short moment, giving him some sense of safety. It wasn’t much, after all he was still covered in the black goo vomited up by the Leper IT had turned into, but it made him feel a little cleaner.

“Funny story,” Eddie started, hoping to catch the teen’s attention and take her mind off whatever was bothering her so much, “down in the basement in the drug store, I was thrown up on by IT. That’s- that’s why I’m covered in… this shit.”

An airy chuckle sounded through the car. It was huffed, barely there, but he heard it. Eddie looked at the girl, spotting the smallest trace of a smile on her lips. It was worth making a fool out of himself for.

“I was attacked by IT down there before. When we were kids. No idea why I was stupid enough to go there again.” He chuckled to himself, glancing up at the rear-view mirror where he was met with the questioning, almost disturbed look of the taxi driver. His eyes left Eddie and the man focused back on the traffic before him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t openly talk about this in front of people who aren’t involved.” Y/N whispered, a sad smile on her lips as she leaned closer to Eddie. He gulped a little, embarrassed that he forgot about that, and nodded before a chuckle burst out of his chest. He pushed the girl playfully. Y/N pushed him back.

The atmosphere in the car seemed so much brighter. The sun, although it shone weakly through the dirty windows, felt much warmer, nicer, and even the rattling heater didn’t bother her anymore. She was almost compelled to confessing to Eddie.

Fuck it, she thought.

“Eddie… Uncle Eds, before I came to the drugstore something happened.” Y/N started suddenly, her eyes trailing over his dirty face for a moment before she couldn’t bear seeing his curious eyes watching her intently anymore and looked down. Her hands kneading themselves in her lap suddenly seemed so much more interesting. The taxi driver lifted his eyes to watch them, suddenly seeming strangely curious. Eddie nervously glanced at the rear-view mirror for a minute, not sure if he wanted her to continue right there, but he really wanted to know, needed to know to help her.

“I was in the hotel room and IT was there. IT attacked me again. Hurt me. But you know about that part. What you don’t know is that IT left me a little message and- “

“We’re here.” The taxi driver rudely interrupted Y/N’s confession. Her palms were sweaty and she could still feel her heart painfully hammering in her chest. A groan escaped Eddie’s lips as he hurriedly pulled a few dollar bills out of his wallet, giving them to the driver with a muttered ‘keep the change’.

Eddie and Y/N got out of the car, standing before the hotel that was connected to so many bad memories already. Y/N sighed while pushing the doors open, Richie’s frantic, desperate voice hitting her ears immediately.

“IT took her! I know IT did!” Richie’s voice was almost booming through the lobby. Beverly had wrapped her arms around the shaking man, desperately trying to calm him down. Richie’s back was facing the door and Bev was too concerned with Richie to look up and notice the girl walking in.

“She’ll be alright, she’s a tough-“

“Y/N!” Ben exclaimed as he spotted her and Eddie in the entrance of the hotel. Richie lifted his head from its place on Bev’s shoulder, whipped around and, not wasting a second, ran to embrace the girl. His arms wrapped tightly around her shaky body, pulling her into his chest and kissing her head. To the Losers, Richie seemed to be in a frenzy, but none of them could blame him. He was left thinking that his daughter might have been taken, hurt or killed. They understood.

Y/N loosely wrapped her arms around him as a strange cocktail of emotions bubbled up in her chest.

“Where have you been?!” Richie now asked, his anger catching up with him as he looked at her. It wasn’t anger so much as worry.

“Why do you even care?” Y/N asked, trying to pull out of Richie’s iron grip.

“Why do I- fuck, you’re my daughter! Of course, I care!” Richie was puzzled at her reaction, lacking understanding for what was going on. Had he missed something? He loosened his hold on her to look at her face. Eddie had been meanwhile embraced by Ben and Bev who looked worried but kept listening in on what was going on. And the Losers were confused. Y/N and Richie seemed like they had an incredibly close relationship, none of them could understand why she was acting like that.

“Am I?!” Y/N asked, tears stinging in her eyes as she hit Richie’s chest, pushing him away from her. He stood shocked. Silence swallowed the room. No one understood.

“Am I your daughter? Your fucking flesh and blood? Because I’m pretty fucking sure that you’re not my dad. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m adopted!” she continued, breaking the thick silence weighing them down. She pushed Richie again as hot tears uncontrollably rolled down her cheeks, over her jaw, until they united just under her chin, turning into one fat tear that finally dropped onto her shirt.

Ben wanted to speak up, wanted to interfere and hold the girl in his arms, calming her down, but something stopped him.

“I- What- what makes you think that?” Richie asked, tears of his own leaving trails on his cheeks, hurt evident in his voice. He was sure he had just witnessed not only his heart, but his whole world shatter right before him.

“Wh-what happened? Y/N what happened?” he continued before the girl even so much as had a chance to explain herself. Eddie, Ben and Bev couldn’t speak. They felt as though their breath had been stolen from their lungs, their minds blank. Richie sounded just like he did when he was 13 years old. They had barely seen him cry back in the day, but if they did, it was brutal. The Losers felt their hearts break as they watched their best friend turn into his insecurity-ridden, hurt 13-year old self.

“IT came back. IT fucking attacked me and I was all alone,” she cried, taking a few steps back from the group of friends, hands balled into fists, “and IT left me a little truth. IT left me a balloon with a message on it, telling me that I’m fucking adopted. You’re nothing but a fucking liar.”

“Y/N, please. You can’t trust IT. IT lies and-“

“Oh yeah? Last time IT talked about Stanley, it was telling the truth. Before any of you fucking knew. Richie fucking lies for a living, how can I be sure he isn’t lying to me too?” Y/N interrupted Beverly and pushed past them, shaking their hands off her as the Losers tried to gently get a hold of her. None of them felt capable of moving though.

Richie felt his heart ache. He felt as though his heart had been stabbed, blood filling his lungs, killing him slowly from the inside. He didn’t know how he felt, what he felt. He felt the world crashing down on him, he felt heartbroken and scared and lost altogether, but he most importantly felt numb, overwhelmed. It was like his mind had been set to auto-pilot. 

Richie, standing a mere two or three steps away from the stairs, was the first to move, letting his body drop.

Eddie was the next one to work himself out of his stupor, rushing over to embrace Richie tightly. He felt Richie’s arms around his waist, but Richie was still too rigid to let himself fall completely.

“Is it true?” Ben asked, uncomfortable, but he managed to suppress the shakiness in his voice. Eddie pulled out of the hug a little, his arms still resting on Richie’s shoulder as Richie’s remained loosely around his waist. Eddie looked into Richie’s eyes, seeing the hurt in them, waiting for the answer. Fat tears filled Richie’s eyes as he looked at Eddie, then glancing over at Ben and Bev who had moved to sit next to the pair.

“I don’t know.” Richie whispered. “I really don’t fucking know.”


	8. Chapter 8

“What do you mean you don’t know? Weren’t you there when she was born?!” asked Ben, stressed out beyond belief over the whole situation. He, Bev And Richie had settled in his room while Eddie got cleaned up and Bill sat in front of Y/N’s and Richie’s room, trying to get her to open up to him. He had arrived not long after the situation escalated and had been sat before the room ever since he heard what happened. Well, after giving Richie shit for never bothering to find out. Richie wasn’t mad at Bill though. He was giving himself shit for never bothering to find out, for taking her with him, for being so careless.

“I mean that I never made a test. There was a birth certificate with her, the mother’s name wasn’t readable anymore, but it had my name on it. So, I assumed…” Richie drifted off, another painful sob racking through his body. His chest was aching more and more with every sob. He hid his face in his hands again, like he had countless times in the past half an hour. The shame was too much for him. 

Richie felt the bed dip beside him as Bev sat down on his right, laying a hand on his back, her head resting against his shoulder. She was shaken up to say the least, not expecting anything like that. When she first encountered Y/N, she had thought about how little physical similarities there were between the girl and her father, but she never would have thought that there might be a bigger reason to that than genetic randomness.

Ben, meanwhile, was still pacing the room, not sure what to think of the whole situation.

“Do you want to get tested?” Beverly asked carefully. Her voice was soft and hesitant, eyes travelling from Richie to Ben and back to Richie as helplessness took over her. And not only her. None of the Losers knew what to think of anything that was going on.

Richie looked up a little, chin and mouth still covered by his hand that he never fully lifted from his face. Then, he shook his head vigorously.

“I’m scared.” He finally uttered, voice cracking and barely more than a whisper. The two Losers easily heard how rough his voice sounded, like his vocal cords had turned to sandpaper. Beverly sighed, along with Ben who ran his hand through his hair before settling his hands on his hips. He had stopped his nervous pacing and instead stepped closer to the two Losers on his bed.

“Listen, Trashmouth. You really fucked up. We all know that. But sitting here and wallowing in self-pity won’t make anything right again. You need to do something.” Ben said, kneeling down before his friend. Richie nodded as yet another sob escaped his lips.

“I’m just so scared. Did I just lose my little girl?” Richie asked, teary gaze moving from Bev to Ben. Both of them felt tears of their own stinging in their eyes. Beverly shook her head.

“I don’t think so.” She replied, trying to put as much confidence into her words as possible although she really wasn’t sure if she believed herself. Ben nodded a little, agreeing with her.

“You’re shit, Y/N knows that too. She’s hurt but I don’t think she hates you.” Ben rested one of his hands on Richie’s knee, hoping to provide some form of comfort as he looked up at the broken man. Each of the Losers had witnessed the others breaking down before. It was completely out of character for most of them, almost like an out-of-body-experience, but Ben and Beverly silently agreed that they had never before seen Richie that low.

It was hard on the other Losers too, though. It wasn’t only Richie whose heart was breaking.

Beverly was actually deeply worried for the girl. After all, Bev had never had a good relationship with her father. He had been abusive, good for nothing, but she still loved him. She still came back time and time again. And she saw herself in Y/N. She knew that Richie never meant to hurt her and wouldn’t ever dare to lay a finger on her, but if Y/N felt that being hurt by her loved ones was alright, would she find herself in a relationship like Beverly’s in the future?

Ben’s heart was aching for her. He knew what it was like to be the outcast. He knew what it was like to find people you adored dearly only to be ripped away from them again. He was sure Y/N felt that way now. Like her safe place, for both alike, the Losers Club, would be taken from her, but most importantly, the man she thought was her father, her only family, was in some ways taken away from her. It was cruel and Ben was scared that she would feel equally lost as he did when he had to move away as a kid. He never really recovered from the hurt his mother caused him back then.

Eddie was silently breaking down in his bathroom. To him, Y/N was such a little sunshine and she didn’t deserve any of this. She didn’t deserve a hurt relationship with her father like he had with his own mother growing up. Richie didn’t deserve that either, but Eddie knew just how much this loss of reality can affect someone. He himself had felt as though he had lost his grip on reality when he spent time in the hospital after breaking his arm. When he pushed his mother to her limits. When he too felt as though he was about to lose the only biological family he had left.

Lastly, Bill was desperate. He had pushed Georgie away and never got the chance to apologise. Time was ticking. What if she or Richie wouldn’t find back together? Bill couldn’t let that happen. His mind was set on saving them the eternal heartache of knowing that it was your fault that a loved one died, the heartache of knowing that the other died feeling unloved. He felt that this was his opportunity to make things right. To not give IT the satisfaction of tearing another family apart.

Which was why he was still, after half an hour, hammering against Y/N’s room door, trying to argue with the girl who mostly replied with hums and groans.

“Y/N p-p-please… This is n-not real. I p-p-promise you.” Bill tried, now growing desperate. Impatient. He felt like he was running out of time. His back was leaned against the door, teeth gnawing at his lips.

“How can you promise that?” Y/N sobbed. The hurt she felt was inexplicable. It was just too much. Her world had been torn apart, nothing made sense anymore and she felt like she just couldn’t go on.

“B-because I c-can.” Bill said, then sighed, knowing just how stupid he sounded. “W-what are we t-to you? W-w-what does the L-Losers Club mean to you?” That sounded better in his ears.

Silence. Then, “I appreciate you.”

“W-we do too. And t-the second R-R-Richie introduced you as h-his d-daughter, I d-d-decided that, to m-me, y-you are a part of this f-f-family.” Bill replied.

“I’m not Richie’s daughter though.” She said, followed by another heart-wrenching sob echoing through the door. Bill winced.

“W-What is a f-father to you?” Bill missed Stan terribly in this situation. He would have done a much better job. He had usually been able to clear everyone’s head out, bringing people closer together again, or at least he was able to talk some sense into them. A single tear managed to escape Bill’s eye, rolling down his cheek until he caught it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. He was mourning for his friend.

“I-I’m sorry, k-kiddo. Stan w-would have been much b-better at this. Sorry. I’m t-trying here, please b-bear with me.” A dry chuckle escaped Bill’s lips. “J-just… what does a p-p-person have to do t-to be a father?”

“I don’t know.” She replied. “I really don’t know. Be there for their kid, I guess. Be honest. Take good care of them. Love them and show them that they’re loved every day. Spend time with them… That stuff.”

Bill smiled a little. “D-Didn’t Richie do m-m-most of that? I mean b-besides the honesty-part.”

She sighed. “But it’ll change so much…”

“W-what exactly would it c-change?” Bill knew that he had finally cornered her. He knew that he had Y/N exactly where he wanted. Suddenly, he felt the door move, but he wasn’t quick enough to adjust his balance and fell flat on his back, met with Y/N’s tear-stained face peeking at him shyly from behind the door. Hastily, he got up as Y/N pulled the door a little further open to grant Big-Bill access to the room. He didn’t waste a second and embraced Y/N tightly, closing the door behind them.

It felt good to be held. Y/N whimpered and winced, broken sobs and shallow gasps racked pained her airways and throat, but she felt. And that was nice.

“Shhh… Y-you’re safe. E-everything will b-be alright.” Bill mumbled, hoping to calm her, but not only her. He, too, needed some support, he needed to hear those words, even if they were his own. Otherwise he knew he would go insane.

“Promise?” Y/N mumbled. She knew it would be a lie, but just for a moment, she wanted to embrace the naïve trust of the child in her. She wanted to blindly follow what the adults told her to do and what they told her would be the truth. She didn’t want to think and decide for herself, but rather go back home, to the safe distance that separated Derry from LA, that separated Derry from the rest of the world, really.

“I p-p-promise.” Bill replied. He looked at his best friend’s presumed daughter and felt utterly helpless. Could he really promise that? He wanted her to be alright, yes, but were lies the right way?

“Can you… uh…”

“Want m-me to call R-R-Richie over?”

Y/N nodded. Bill, feeling a little at ease, grinned and left the room only to reappear a few minutes later, a shaking Richie under his arm. Dried tear streaks besmirched his paler-than-usual cheeks. Richie looked tired. Mentally exhausted, yes, but it seemed almost as though he has aged about two decades in the past hour.

“I’m r-r-right outside if y-you n-need me.” Bill told the two before stepping out, closing the door behind him. Y/N remained quiet, just like Richie. He was slumped over, hands balled in the pockets of his jacket. Y/N could see how hard he was gritting his teeth, trying not to let more tears fall. Richie looked defeated.

Y/N, however, was ready to fight. Her body was rigid, tense, and Richie thought that not even that stupid bitch of a clown would survive a fight with his little girl. Not in that very moment. There was blood on her thumb, Richie assumed she had excessively bit down on it, accidentally tearing it. Richie saw the unshed tears in her eyes and dried tear streaks stained her angrily blushing cheeks.

“Y/N, I,” Richie started, but the words caught in his throat, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She remained quiet.

“I just… Someone left you on my doorstep. They rang the bell and just took off. I had no chance of finding out who it was. But there was a letter. I still have it at home. Couldn’t throw that stupid piece of shit paper away.” A dry chuckle escaped Richie’s lips as he stepped closer to the bed, where Y/N was standing.

“It was from your mother. I can tell you what it said, or I can give you the letter once we get home. But something about it made me want to trust that unnamed person. And you were crying. So loudly and desperately, it made me cry too. I was so fucking scared. I mean, I still am, but back in the day, everything happened so suddenly and I was still living in my fucked up one-room apartment. Fuck, I still wrote my own shit.” Richie ran a hand over his face, up to his hair, then looked at Y/N. Her arms were crossed in a defensive manner in front of her chest.

“But you looked at me with those fucking huge eyes and it was like you told me that we could do this. And I trusted you. And when you grew older, you were so much like me. I never felt the need to do a paternity test. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” Richie couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. His voice sounded shallow, pained, even. Y/N just sighed, but she could feel her own tears fall, shoulders relaxing in the slightest.

“If you want me to, I’ll take the test the second we get back home. But to me you are and will always be my daughter. Fucking biology can’t change that. Please, please forgive me, little one. Please. I’m so fucking sorry.” Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier was full-on pleading now. Pure fear had taken over his body, fear of losing the most important person in his life. The little girl he had taken care of, taken in, cared for and given all his love for the longest time of his life. He couldn’t lose her.

“It’s okay, Richie. I’d just like to know if you’re my biological father too on top of being my psychological dad.” Y/N muttered before finally letting loose, allowing her body to break down again. She knew that it wasn’t just okay. She, as much as Richie knew that it would take time to rebuild their trust, to get back to where they were. She knew that she couldn’t just forgive him for basically lying to her all her life, but he couldn’t help it. He had been blind with trust and now he would have to pay the price. 

Richie hesitated for a moment, not knowing if she wanted distance between them to sort out her feelings or if she was craving the comfort from the man she considered her father throughout her whole life. Ultimately, he decided against his gut-feeling and shot up from the bed, wrapping his arms around her crumbling frame.

They cried. It was raw and real and painful, but it was just as relieving. Wet, desperate sounds of hurt and heartache crawled up their throats, echoing in the room. Struggling breaths and hurried gasps. Cries for help from above. Cries for the past.

Eddie, in his room, could hear the wailing sounds. They pained him. They made him want to cry as he cleaned himself up. Eddie didn’t want anything more than for the two to be alright. He wanted the man he loved to be alright and he wanted for that man’s daughter to be alright. Eddie’s creeping hopes of going home with them rather than going back to Myra felt as though they had been shattered. He felt guilty for not wanting to go back to her, but Eddie wanted to be happy. And he felt more than just happy when he was with the Tozier-Trashmouth-duo. He felt free and accepted and loved whereas with Myra, he felt oppressed and stuck in the same vicious circle every day of his life.

He appreciated her, he appreciated how she cared for him, how she reminded him of all the meds he had to take and how he could unwind a little with her after a long day at work. Eddie did have actual romantic feelings for that woman years and years ago, but now, he felt that all those feelings had faded and since arriving in Derry, the thought of going back to Myra made him feel uneasy more than anything.

He would much rather go home with the chaotic Toziers. Get to know how they live. He could help Richie manage his life. He could help Y/N whenever she was struggling in school. Maybe, just maybe, Eddie could stay at home, make sure that everything was cleaned and cared for, cook and plan out little weekend trips. Maybe he could pick up a small job to support the duo, or he could keep working at his job, it wasn’t something he couldn’t do elsewhere, and save whatever was left of his income for Y/N’s later education.

Eddie smiled, a blush on his cheeks, as he wet the cloth, trying to get the dirt off himself. Only seconds later, his happy daydreams were rudely interrupted by the most terrifying nightmare.

Ben had checked in with the Toziers as the cleansing cries ebbed off and were replaced with soft, uneven whimpers and whispers.

“We need you two right here with us.” He had told them, eyes moving from one tear-stained face to the other. Ben looked closely, examined their faces in the most detailed way, searching for similarities between the two and ending up a little satisfied as he found a few. Like the way their noses were curved. The fine lips, the gentle eyes. Ben found that they had more in common than they might have seen. He hoped that it wasn’t just mother nature and his own mind playing tricks on him.

“We’ll stay, don’t worry.” Richie replied as he watched Ben. Little did Ben know that neither Richie nor Y/N planned on staying in Derry. Ben had closed the door behind him, his steps outside growing quieter as he was on his way downstairs, unintentionally interrupting the kiss between Bev and Bill before proudly explaining to them how he managed to get Richie and Y/N to stay.

“Let’s leave.” Richie said hurriedly, back in the room. His heart was clenching in his chest at the thought of leaving his friends, most importantly Eddie, behind to fend for themselves, but fixing his family was more important to him. The blankness of Y/N face, the emptiness of her eyes, the lack of emotion in her facial features scared Richie more than IT ever could.

Y/N nodded. She was too exhausted to interact with Richie any longer. She felt empty, almost as though with all the tears she cried, she had cried out her heart and soul and every last emotion in her brain. She felt like something had been ripped away from her. Like she was incomplete. Although she knew that Richie wasn’t really gone. He was still there, still her father, but she still felt… Strange. Because everything she had believed as she grew up might have been a huge misunderstanding. And that was a lot to take in.

Richie smiled a little. Then, he gave her a gentle clap on the shoulder, the last non-frantic movement he would make for the next few minutes. What ensued was Richie, a constant stream of swear words leaving his lips, hastily searching the room for any items that might belong to them, carelessly throwing what was left in the room into the bags. He then grabbed both bags, gently pushing his daughter to the window where a fire escape led them outside, to the comfort of the expensive car.

Y/N climbed into the back, stretching her legs across the seats while Richie threw the bags in the trunk, slamming it close, then struggled to get in and start the car. The second the motor started, Richie seemed to be a little at ease, his shoulders relaxing further the more distance he put between his little family and the hotel of horror.

Richie had turned on the radio, a random rock song was playing, and he anxiously bopped his head along to the beat. The song sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t be bothered to strain his brain for the name.

Y/N had curled up against the backseats, legs spread out over the seats. She wasn’t comfortable, but it felt better than facing the world and sitting up. She felt too tired to do that. Instead, she looked out the window, simply watching as the world passed by.

The car came to an abrupt halt, shaking the girl halfway out of her trance. She sat up a little, confused as to where the pair might be. She spotted a synagogue and let her eyes travel to Richie who now seemed to be in a little trance himself. His vision blurred with tears and he suddenly looked back at his little girl.

“Uhm… Would you- do you mind if we-“ Richie sniffled a little, pointing at the synagogue just outside. Carefully, Y/N shook her head, silently telling the man that it would be alright. And so, Richie parked the car and climbed out, leading his daughter inside. He hadn’t been there in years. Not since the bar mitzvah. Not since Stanley’s speech.

His nose filled with the typical, slightly musty smell of the place. He knew that warm but kind of old smell from the time he supported Stan when no one else would.

Richie and Y/N sat down on one of the benches and Richie’s gaze wandered through the room. In his mind, he tried to think of how it had looked back in the day. He tried to remember the decorations, how he and his mother were dressed, what Stanley wore.

How he acted. Richie’s mother had felt embarrassed that Richie couldn’t keep his Trashmouth in check for once. But not only how Richie himself acted, admittedly quite tame compared to what his teachers usually heard from him. This was about Stanley.

How he acted up against what was expected from him. How we said that he was and would always be a Loser.

How Stanley reminded Richie of who he was and would always be. That he was alright just the way he was. That he didn’t need to be afraid of who he was.

How Stanley reminded Richie that his friends needed him.

And how much he needed his friends. ‘Because Losers stick together’.

“Thank you for showing up, Stanley.” Richie sniffled in the quietest voice he could muster

And with that, Richie grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her outside again, ready to go meet Mike at the library. Ready to stand by his friends. Ready to fuck the bitch up who dared to lay a finger on his little girl and tried to tear them apart. And, lastly, ready to face Eddie. Because Richie really needed Eddie to know how he felt about him.


	9. Chapter 9

Y/N didn’t question what Richie was doing. She didn’t feel she had the power to. So, instead, she tried to muster up the most confused expression she felt capable of. Richie, almost maniacally, pulled her back outside to the car and made her sit down in the front seat. He finally noticed her looking on, in a stupor, not moving. Her face looked almost blank, only a hint of wonder lightening it up.

“I- I can’t. I can’t just leave them here. We can’t leave them here. We are Losers and Losers stick together.” Richie told his daughter, gently cupping her cheek. He was hoping for some kind of reaction but, upon receiving none, let a watery breath escape his lips. He felt tears stinging in his eyes yet again, before adding another whispered explanation.

“Stan wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want me or you leaving our friends behind. He wouldn’t want me leaving Eddie behind.”

With that, she nodded a little, facial expression still unphased. Richie shot Ben a quick text, letting him know that he and the little Tozier would meet them at the library, that they had gone out for a quick smoke or whatever. Given that he and Bev started smoking like a chimney at a younger age than her, he thought the excuse sounded pretty believable.

Impatiently, he drove through the town. Richie’s fingers were restless against the cold leather of the steering wheel. He tried to distract himself, tried desperately to recognise the buildings around him, the streets and faces, something he could hold on to. Richie felt like his life was slipping through his own hands like sand, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hold it together.

Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, face growing a grim expression and his jaw started clenching, all going unnoticed by himself.

What didn’t go unnoticed by Richie, though, was his presumed daughter’s hand on his wrist. He spared her a little glance which was all it took for Richie to step off the gas a little and lean back in his seat. He was still nervous, but the reassurance and worry in the big, familiar eyes of his daughter calmed him a little. Richie knew she didn’t hate him. He could read it in her eyes.

And he was right. Despite everything, she couldn’t hate Richie. He made a mistake, yes, but there were more important matters at hand right now. Besides, Richie didn’t love her any less, right? She could still pretend everything was alright. They could go back home once all of this was over and pretend it never happened. But, of course, it had happened and couldn’t be undone. The thought of Richie not truly being her father weighed heavily on her chest and would continue to do so until she knew for certain. And she feared whatever a stupid little test might say. Because, no matter what, their relationship wouldn’t be the same. Y/N felt like something had been taken from her, as stupid as it sounded. Because Richie was right beside her, it was just like she couldn’t look at him like she did before. 

The town was slowly growing colder to the girl. Not weather-wise, no. She felt that Derry didn’t care about them. She felt that no one in that town would notice if they needed help. She felt that the town wouldn’t care if each of the Losers died, stiff bodies recovered later that day, not even a lousy newspaper article would be written about the bodies. And it terrified her.

“Dad?” Y/N whispered, voice breaking as she swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up straight, embracing herself. Richie, a little surprised to hear her call him that, tried to look at her as he was navigating the car through the streets. Quick glances were casted her way until he finally had the chance to properly look at her as they reached a red traffic light.

“Yeah, kiddo?” Richie now asked. His lips were parted as he didn’t know what to expect, brows furrowed in confusion, but also a little curiosity.

“We’ll be alright… Right?” Y/N asked, raw fear very prominent in her voice. She looked at Richie with the eyes of the child she used to be. Many situations popped into Richie’s head. Moments when she had been terrified, almost petrified by the pure horror crawling under her skin, as she had asked the same question. He had always had an answer. And he had always been right. Because that was easy. Like when he saw the little girl with her pigtails (braided by Richie himself) in the doorway of her classroom on her very first day of school. She had been incredibly intimidated by the other students, but he told her that she would be alright if only she went in there with an open mind and a friendly face. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time she was scared of giving a presentation in middle school that her teachers would base a lot of her grade on. She was crying at her desk, little cards with notes carefully written out were strewn mindlessly around the table as her panicked eyes were directed to her laptop, presentation opened. She was scared of failing her class. Richie told her that there was nothing to be scared of. Failing a class wasn’t the end of the world, he had failed more classes than he could count himself. He told her that she was incredibly bright, told her to keep him in her mind and she would ace that presentation. She did. Richie was right.

Or the time Richie had to undergo surgery after miraculously breaking his nose. He had never told his daughter how exactly it happened, but she had called a taxi to drive them to the hospital where Richie was quick to be put under medication and have a surgery scheduled. She was standing by his side in tears, broken heart beating painfully in her chest as she watched her father grow loopy. Richie had enough of a straight mind to lay his wired-up hand on her cheek and give her the most reassuring smile he could. She was scared that Richie wouldn’t come back to her, that he would fall asleep and never wake up again. Richie’s smile faltered a little as his mind reminded him that there could be serious consequences to a surgery, but he was quick to shake that thought off. He told her that it was just a quick fix of his beauty. Told her that she should follow the nurses, they would be taking care of her, and after a bit of time he would be as good as new. He told her that all she needed was a little faith and patience, and trust. He told her that he wouldn’t ever leave her to fight for herself like that. He wouldn’t leave her alone. She did. And Richie was right.

But now was different. This was bigger than a surgery, a broken heart, a presentation or a first day of school. This was much bigger. And now, Richie was the one to be terrified, skin prickling with fear, cold sweat on the back of his neck, with no answer on his mind.

“Yes,” he rung out, “If you believe that we will be.”

With that, the car grew silent again, the only exception being the Beatles, singing for Help. A bitter smile grew on Richie’s lips as he remembered the flyer for ‘Richie Tozier’s All Dead Rock Show’.

“There must be some kind of way out of here…” mumbled the man to himself, shuddering as he thought about his encounter with the clown.

Despite his talk with his daughter, despite her telling him that it was okay for him to feel love for men, Richie still wasn’t sure. It was still one of the easiest ways to hurt Richie. But he couldn’t deny that it hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. The thought that Y/N would support him, regardless of who he loved, comforted him immensely. It was easier for him to make the clown piss off.

“Said the joker to the thief.” Y/N continued, turning the bitter smile into a genuine. A huffed breath escaped Richie, a cruel, self-deprecating joke on his lips, as he was about to reply, but swallowed it down instead as the old library building came into view. He felt the tips of his fingers go numb as he thought of the story Ben had told them of his first encounter with IT.

Slowly, painfully so, did the car roll closer to the building before coming to a gentle halt as Richie gracefully parked the expensive car. Y/N didn’t waste a minute and got out of the car the second the car stood securely, marching up the stairs to the heavy front door of the old building. She thought that Richie would take ages to muster up his courage again, which was why she sought the peaceful distance, but to her utter surprise, Richie was fast on his feet, almost eager to go to Mike, the man who hadn’t got a clue of any of the shit that was going on. Blissfully unaware somewhere in that building, hiding away between the thick books. He was probably happily reading through his notes on the history of Derry, the unawareness a constant companion. Or so Richie thought. Because, in truth, Mike was fighting for his life with a man he didn’t think he’d ever encounter again. Especially not in such a cruel way.

Richie, surprisingly, didn’t enter the library with a bang. Something held him back. It was like something was trying to quieten him, to make his and his daughter’s presence unknown to whoever or whatever else was in the building with them.

Y/N felt cold as she watched the eerily quiet library.

“Is Mike late or-“ she started, but didn’t get to finish her sentence for Richie shushed her, not letting her utter another sound. At first, just for a few seconds, she didn’t understand, an uncomfortable coil tied up in her chest. That was, until she saw the pure focus on Richie’s face. Furrowed eyebrows, tongue poking out just a little between his lips as he strained his old ears, hoping to pick up the faint sounds yet again.

And suddenly, she did too. The grunts were quiet, almost not audible if they had as much as walked through the library, searching the bookshelves. It seemed that even the lightest breeze could have drowned the sounds out, but once they heard them, they were there. And neither of the pair had any kind of doubt. Someone was struggling. Badly.

“Stay here.” Richie grumbled out before falling into a sprint. As quickly as he could, he moved up the stairs, hoping for the grunts to grow louder, to grow more present, but most importantly, he was hoping that they wouldn’t stop.

A glint of light caught Richie’s eye. A glass case was attached to one of the dark walls. An axe to be used in case of emergency, as the sign told him. Presumably, in case of a fire. The man jerked his clothed elbow against the glass, shattering it easily.

“This is an emergency after all.” Richie said to himself before turning around and running further upstairs. His lungs were burning with the effort. Something he wasn’t used to anymore. It was at that moment that he cursed his younger self for picking up that very first cigarette, the thing of all evil, basically. He shook his head. No time for thoughts of that sort.

It wasn’t until he reached the top of the stairs that the grunts and screams finally seemed close. And they were. Behind the door, Richie was met with the back of someone kneeling above his friend. Things weren’t looking good for Mikey. Richie didn’t even feel as though he was the one acting in that moment. He liked to think that it was some weird out-of-body experience, controlled by the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins, fueling his body.

Y/N had been hot on his trail, running just after him. She didn’t feel safe on her own, not even with the assurance of the mirror shard still in her pocket as a weapon. She arrived just in time to watch as her father raised the axe and rammed it into the man’s head, not a trace of hesitation in his actions. It was almost frightening to watch the lifeless body slump to the ground. Y/N almost felt like she could watch the life seep out of the man’s body with every drop of blood that left his body. Richie tried to make a joke, but was interrupted by his own body as he doubled over, emptying his stomach as a shrill scream escaped his daughter’s lips.

Y/N stumbled back, falling against the wall behind her, only to slide down to the ground. She too felt sick to the pit of her stomach, but she tried to suppress the bile from coming up. Instead, she scooted closer to the wall, instinctively curled up against the cooling surface as she watched the crimson stain the ground, the puddle growing bigger by the second.

Hands clasped together before her mouth in disbelief, she tried her best to breathe evenly, but any rational thought had left her brain. Y/N felt cold, her body shook heavily with fear clawing at her. It wasn’t until she heard a different scream, a feminine voice, that she noticed how her father was desperately trying to catch her attention, blocking her view of the body with his own body.

The other Losers filled the room, one more shocked than the other. Eddie’s face was almost as white as the gauze on his cheek when he entered the room, anxious eyes immediately analysing the situation. Until his eyes finally found the Toziers sitting on the ground, Richie desperately trying to get any kind of reaction out of Y/N, any reaction other than fear. Eddie shot Mike, who was still on the ground, a sympathetic smile before dropping to his knees by the duo.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, it’s uncle Eds. It’s alright, you’re alright.” Eddie muttered as the rest of the bunch took care of Bowers’ body and Mike, who felt as shaky as a leaf in late autumn months.

Slowly, her eyes travelled to the smaller man, the fear never leaving them, but they were moving. She was with them.

“Uncle Eds?” Richie whispered to himself as he leaned against the wall next to Y/N, letting Eddie take over for a moment. His hand stayed on her knee though, eyes intently watching their every move.

Ragged breaths escaped her pale lips.

“You’re alright. We’re all alright.” Eddie continued his soothing mantra.

“Dad- the man- he killed him-“ her gaze jumped between the two men in front of her, her instincts tried to get another look at the dead body, but Eddie wouldn’t let her, hoping that his body would fully block the view as Richie kept her body planted in place, gently but firmly, with his arm around her shoulders.

“It was self-defence. He needed to do that.”

“But- but-“ her lips quivered terribly as she looked up at Eddie, eyes huge. Her mind had a hard time understanding just what was happening, but it was slowly catching up with the situation. “I’m scared.” She finally whimpered out and with that, the dam broke and fat tears rolled down her reddened cheeks.

Eddie and Richie both embraced the girl as she broke down. The other Losers watched with sorrow, watched as the little girl broke down. Mike, who felt like he was the one at fault to put her through all of this, felt a stabbing pain in his chest as a few tears of his own managed to push past the barrier. The other Losers didn’t feel any less to blame, though. Each of them were thinking about what they could have done to protect her rather than stand by and watch as the town, but mostly IT, mercilessly tore her down, broke her spirit until nothing would be left, not even a will to survive.

Silently, Bev looked over her shoulder at Ben and Mike, both sat on the ground, who only needed the one pained expression on her face. They understood. No words needed to be spoken.

“It’s okay to be scared. But you can’t let the fear take over you. Not now. You’re stronger than that.” Eddie explained to the girl, feeling her tears against his clothes. His chin was resting on top of her head. Suddenly, a stinging sensation in his cheek made him cringe, but it was quickly replaced by his heart feeling as though someone was squeezing it tightly. Richie had nuzzled his own head against both of their heads. And with that, Eddie suddenly realised just how close he was to Richie. Arms embracing not only Y/N, but also each other, clinging to each other, Richie’s head lovingly nudging Eddie’s cheek, the closeness of their hands-

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Said Y/N, pushing out of the warming embrace, accidentally breaking the two lovers apart, as she stumbled just out the door to empty her stomach.

“Are you alright?” Ben finally asked, looking towards Mike. Richie, who was helping his friend get back to his feet, trying to put some distance between himself and Eddie. It felt so nice, embracing his daughter with the man he loved, but at the same time, it was intimidating. He still had no reassurance, nor did he have the courage to confess to Eddie how he felt.

“No, I’m not! I just fucking killed someone!” Richie replied, confused at the stupid question. Ben and Mike looked at each other carefully for a moment.

“I was talking to Mike.” He continued, earning an almost insulted glare from Richie. Y/N was coming back into the room, eyes travelling from Richie to Eddie, sadly realising the distance them. It was strange to her, watching them bicker and move closer with every ‘your mom’ joke they made, hold onto each other in moments of fear and doubt and yet move away from each other as far as possible once they realised what they had been doing all along. 

“What the fuck happened to your face?” Y/N asked suddenly, voice loud and clear despite her shaking body. All eyes were on Y/N for a second before everyone’s eyes travelled to the person she was looking at. Eddie. 

“Oh… uh… Bowers stabbed me.” Eddie replied, feeling not only Y/N’s eyes on him. Richie was eyeing him carefully, worry flooding him. He wasn’t there, he could have helped. But he was too busy being a coward to protect one of his closest friends, the man he admittedly liked in a romantic way.

Richie watched as Y/N stepped closer to Eddie, eyes not leaving the huge white patch on his face that had gone unnoticed as the adrenaline took hold over their bodies yet again that day. Richie bit his lip, trying to bite away the familiar stinging of tears behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not there, not then. 

Y/N hugged Eddie tightly. He was a little thrown off-guard, hesitating just a little before embracing her too.

“I feel like we can’t be trusted on our own. We’ll just end up hurt.” She said seriously, causing the group to chuckle a little.

Something was strange about the sound. Mike examined the group for a moment. Then, he felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked around the room and saw all the Losers, minus one.

“Where is Bill?”


	10. Chapter 10

“Bill, we’re at the library. Where are you?” Mike asked the second Bill answered his phone. The incomplete Losers Club Plus One was gathered around him, trying to listen in on what they were talking about. To say that they were worried was an understatement. But the fact that Bill had picked up was relieving, to say the least. It meant that he was still with them. It meant that IT hadn’t gotten to him. It meant that he was more or less safe. It meant that Bill was still alive and not doing anything too stupid.

“IT took a-a little k-k-kid- IT k-killed a little k-kid right in fucking front of me.” Bill sounded distraught, heartbroken. He had been crying, probably still was crying. Y/N, who was close enough to Mike to listen in on the conversation, especially felt a strong urge in her to just hug the man and tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Because it really wasn’t. But Bill thought differently. It was his fault that Georgie was taken by IT, Georgie had been taken because he hadn’t been there. And Dean, the little kid, had been killed because Bill hadn’t been fast enough. It was Bill’s fault, in his mind, and it would always be.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Mike jumped out of his seat. He had known Bill when he was a kid, he knew that Bill often made stupid decisions, and Mike was sure that Bill’s want to protect the Losers from IT was kicking in just then. If there was one thing each of them remembered about Bill, it was his unintentional heroism as he was trying to protect his friends.

“Look, just come back to the library, we can talk about the plan-“

“I’m gonna go kill IT. I don’t want any of you to get near IT. I’m gonna kill IT.” Bill said through gritted tears before hanging up, falling into a quick jog towards Silver. It was only a matter of seconds until he and Silver were fast enough to beat the devil. And the devil, they would beat.

“He’s gonna fight IT alone. Alone!” Mike said, almost as though he was concluding the very short call he and Bill just had. Mike was scared. Not only for Bill who was driven to do the stupidest things, all by Pennywise, but he was also scared for the rest of his friends. The people who had once gone down the drain with him, explored the sewers with him, fought IT with him. But most importantly, he felt scared for the new generation. Because if they failed now, if the ritual didn’t work and all of them were to end up dead, what hope did the children have left? IT would continue to attack children, eat children, tear families apart.

“What?” Richie mumbled more to himself than anyone else. And, almost as though he had the same train of thought as Mike, he looked at his daughter. The girl he had watched as she grew up and had taken care of nearly every day of her life. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he thought of the things IT would do should he and his friends fail to kill IT once and for all. Or, should she be able to escape Derry, the things she would have to live through as she got back home to LA. Would she be able to provide for herself? Who could she go to once he was gone? How would she handle all the paperwork? And oh, all those moments ahead of her that he was going to miss. Graduations, relationships, first jobs, first travels, all the accomplishments and big events in her life that he would miss. The moments that would fill her with pride but also shatter her heart if he wasn’t there.

Y/N looked up at Richie. Her mind was blank with pure worry. She hadn’t thought further than what would happen to Bill just yet, but maybe it was for the better. Maybe it was better that she didn’t worry her head with too many consequences and the horrors of IT, the true horrors of IT that she had yet to face.

“It’s- it’s about the group. The ritual doesn’t work without the group. Doing it together was why it worked.” Mike’s fear was growing, steadily consuming him. Like a shadow covering the little light of hope, he had left after noticing that the remainder of his friends had come to the library. He had felt so hopeful when he saw all of their faces, despite the horrid circumstances, in the library, knowing that they had gotten their tokens, knowing that they would face IT with him. He had trusted Bill to come back as well, he knew that Big Bill was known to stick to his friends. Leaving them to fend for themselves was not like Bill. Not at all. This wasn’t Big Bill talking, this was Bill, the author with the childhood trauma, talking. The man who had no idea how to properly end a book. They needed to show him how it’s done.

Y/N was gnawing at her thumb. It was sore and it stung a little, but it provided her comfort. Not much, but every single bit of comfort was more than welcome. Eddie saw, and pushed her arm down, hoping it would pull her out of her thoughts and get her to stop hurting herself. A million arguments as to why she shouldn’t do that, shouldn’t nibble at her nails when she was nervous, ran through his mind, he was ready to spill them out, but he bit his tongue. Y/N surely didn’t need that right now. She needed someone to take care of her. She needed her father.

With anxious eyes, Eddie searched for Richie.

Richie, lost in his thoughts and fears, wasn’t one to quickly notice. He didn’t even properly listen in on what the Losers were talking about. He heard Ben speak. Voice raspy, heavy with worry. Then Bev. Her voice was airy, light like she didn’t want anyone to hear her words because she didn’t want them to be true.

Richie looked up. He noticed that he hadn’t heard either of his loves speak up in a while. His gaze landed on Eddie immediately.

The man had slung one arm very awkwardly around his daughter, almost like Eddie wasn’t sure of his role in that particular moment, nor did he seem very confident with it. Both Eddie and Y/N were looking at Richie with raised brows and huge eyes. They resembled a pair of helpless puppies in a way.

With a few quick strides, Richie reached the pair and pulled his little girl close to him. Y/N leaned against her father. It felt strangely foreign and yet so natural to be so close to him. Her whole body seemed to still be a little confused with what was going on, how to feel about Richie, how to act around him. But Y/N knew him. And she knew his comfort. Richie was something to hold on to. Someone who had always been there. Father or not, she needed to feel at home. And that was exactly what Richie was.

Home.

“Oh, we’re not going to like this, are we?” Eddie asked, making Richie and Y/N listen in on the conversation around them again.

Y/N looked at the group. Everyone suddenly seemed much tenser. Arms crossed, faces cold, almost sorrowful looks in their eyes. Sighing, and then-

“Fuck.” Y/N whispered as something clicked in her mind. Shit was about to go down.

Derry had turned dark. Very dark. But not only the sky had lost its light, the occasional lightning on the horizon being an exception, but the town itself seemed to change. It was like the town had become one of ghosts. Barely a soul left a trace. Very few windows were lit. It was like time had stopped around Derry and no one was alive, or at least truly waking anymore. Everyone except for the Losers Club Plus One.

Y/N found herself feeling more and more like she was asleep. She couldn’t say it had been since arriving in town. Coming to Derry was strange. It was like she had started reading a book from the middle. She had a very small knowledge of what has been happening and tiny snippets of explanations were thrown her way, but nothing really. It just wasn’t enough. And the more she lost herself in the book, the twisted storylines and the even more confusing actions of the characters, the more she felt like nothing was real. Like whatever was happening wasn’t really happening and she had actually fallen asleep while reading a book.

But every book also had an ending. And not all of them were happy endings.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, squirt?” Richie broke the silence in the car. Richie and Y/N were riding together, just like Mike and Ben and Bev and Eddie. All of the pairs were ready to beat silver. Desperate to beat silver.

“Don’t know… Just… This place, I guess. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Y/N looked at her father. His face, every now and then illuminated by the scarce light of the streetlights all around Derry, seemed so young, yet he didn’t act like he usually did. Even Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier seemed to be intimidated by the situation he found himself in.

“It is. And I never missed it.”

“You couldn’t even remember it until Mike called.”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“So you didn’t want to remember Eddie either?” Y/N smirked.

“Damn you, squirt. Sometimes I really wish your mom would have swallowed.”

Silence.

“Do you think things will change when we get home? Like between us?” Y/N asked curiously. But there was a sliver of hurt in her voice. Richie sighed.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless we make a change. If you don’t want things to change between us, they don’t have to. We can act like Derry never happened when we get home. We can forget about all of this.”

It was strange hearing Richie speak all wise and serious. But it felt nice. It felt nice knowing that he took Y/N and her worries seriously and didn’t just flip them off as irrelevant.

“I don’t think I want to forget.” Y/N mumbled more to herself than to her father.

Richie’s car caught up with the other two. He hadn’t noticed how far they had fallen behind until he noticed that he could barely see the other cars before them. That’s when he sped. And it felt nice. It felt like he finally regained at least a little control over something. The last time he felt so powerless and so small compared to the world was when he entered the house on Neibolt Street for the first time. When he saw how Eddie got hurt. When he tried to reposition Eddie’s broken arm and was trapped in the same room as IT.

When the group split up for the first time.

When everything somehow shifted. And they were the world’s oldest 13-year olds.

“I can see Bill!” Y/N exclaimed, sitting up straight in her car seat, hand shooting to the seat belt buckle.

“Fuck.” Richie said as he watched Bill pushing a bike away. Was that silver? Richie was sure that he somehow had gotten his trusted bike back. How exactly, Richie didn’t know. Things had a way of coming back in Derry. But it wasn’t important. What was important was getting back together.

“Bill!” Beverly yelled, effectively stopping Bill. He turned to look at her just as he was about to enter the house.

Y/N felt like she was trapped inside a bad horror movie. The house she was facing was dark, the wood it was made of looked like it defied the laws of nature as it still stood. Y/N felt like she should feel silly, she should not be able to take this house seriously. It was the definition of a bad idea, but somehow, she felt compelled to show respect. Something about it felt intimidatingly evil. She knew the house would be no good, but she didn’t expect the place they would fight IT in to be looking as shabby yet scary.

“No!” Bill yelled back as he watched the group step closer to him and the building. They all were there. Bev, Mike, Ben, Eddie, Richie, even Y/N. Y/N, who was just a little older than they were when they first encountered IT.

Bill felt tears stinging in his eyes. He didn’t want to risk his friends’ lives again. And he for sure didn’t want to be the reason another kid had to go through what he and his friends did. Or – worst of all – he didn’t want to risk seeing another kid die because of him.

“N-no, you guys, no. I st-st-started all this. I-It’s m-my fault that y-you’re all here. Th-this curse, this fucking thing- It’s inside you all. It’s s-started growing the day I m-m-made you all go down to the barrens. Bec-cause all I cared about was finding G-Georgie. Now I’m gonna go in there, I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I c-can’t ask you to d-do this.” Bill sounded distraught.

Y/N, subliminally, wrapped her arms around her father’s right arm. Richie acknowledged it, pulling her a little closer, but remained silent as they watched Bill fall apart with the pent-up guilt. The guilt he had been living with, sometimes more and sometimes less consciously, over the past 28 years.

Bill made eye contact with Y/N. He looked at her and saw so much potential in her. So much life, so much she had yet to give the world. And he felt sorry that she was there. He felt sorry for the pain she had endured over the past hours. Physically and mentally. Bill felt sorry for the wounds and the scars that, ultimately, he was to blame for. Because none of this would have happened if he had listened to his father. If he had stopped looking for Georgie. Or better yet, if he never acted sick to avoid playing with Georgie.

Had Bill not been so selfish, Georgie would still be alive.

“But you’re not asking us.” Y/N told Bill. “We’re here because we want to be. All of us could have left, we are free to go. But we didn’t.”

Bill sighed, running a hand through his hair to push it back. It felt sweaty, his whole head felt heated and the slight breeze of evening air felt nice. Relieving.

Richie looked funnily at his daughter. A part of him was scared she might tell the story of how they almost left if it wasn’t for Stan the man. Another part of him, however, registered that she wanted to be there. Be there, at Neibolt, with them. And it scared him to death. Nausea washed over him again and Richie had a hard time not showing just that.

Beverly picked up something from the ground. Something long and rusty. To all the Losers, it seemed to make sense, seemed to be a missing piece from a puzzle. Only Y/N watched on, visibly confused.

“Well, we’re not asking you either,” Beverly replied.

“We didn’t do this alone then, Bill. So, we’re not gonna do this alone now.” Mike added.

“Losers stick together.” Ben.

A pregnant pause. The air was thick with tension as the Losers made it clear that Big Bill wouldn’t go in there on his own. Like they had proven to one another once before. When they were nothing more than a mismatched group of kids that fit together perfectly.

The only sounds outside the house were crickets chirping in the night, an occasional roll of thunder and the wind lightly blowing through the grass. No one dared to speak up. No one dared to say another word. But not all words had been spoken yet. Each Loser was just waiting for the next move. The words that would decide how they were to proceed. 

“So, does somebody wanna say something?” Eddie broke the silence. And with that, decisions were made. The Losers would, once more, stick together.

“Richie said it b-b-best when we were here last.” Bill replied, looking at Richie expectantly. Richie now looked taken aback. He couldn’t remember ever saying the right thing at the right moment. Even Y/N looked at her father, a hint of curiosity on her otherwise confused face.

“I did?” Richie asked, still not remembering. He felt the Losers’ eyes on him, all of them waiting to hear the familiar words again. Richie thought for a moment.

“I don’t wanna die?” he asked. His daughter loosened her grip on him and shrugged a little.

“Very reasonable.” She mumbled to herself.

“Not that.” Bill’s voice sounded hoarse. A few moments of silence as Richie thought again, trying to remember what he said that day.

“You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?” The Losers looked at Richie, unimpressed. Y/N, however, had to fight back her giggle, but a tiny snort escaped the girl. She couldn’t hold herself back at the unexpected and yet so typical statement from the man she grew up with.

“No…” The Trashmouth whispered to himself as his friends failed to answer. The group seemed to ease up a little despite the situation they found themselves in.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown?” Bill grinned at that. The Trashmouth had found his words.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown!” Richie repeated, this time more eager. With that, the group found their spirit. The Losers Club was back and ready to kill a bitch. With that, the Losers entered the house that they knew was potentially the last place they would visit.


	11. Chapter 11

“Yeah, no, you’re staying out here.” Richie said as he noticed that his daughter was trying to follow the group. He was fumbling with something in his pockets, trying to find the car keys.

“What? No. There’s no way I’m letting you guys do this on your own.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms before her chest. Her cheeks grew warm with anger.

“There’s no way I’m letting you come with us.” Richie countered; stance equally determined.

“Richie…” Eddie started, only to be interrupted by Richie himself.

“No, don’t ‘Richie’ me. She’s not coming with us. Y/N is staying in the car where it’s safe.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be safer for her to come with us than to stay by herself in the car.” Eddie looked at Y/N, then over to the cars parked beside the street.

“I’ve told you before, it is not safe for us to split up. Y/N doesn’t even know how to drive in case she needs to get away, there is nothing for her to defend herself with once that fucking clown comes out. Staying in the car would literally be a death trap for her.” Eddie tried to argue with Richie who now looked twisted. The rest of the Losers looked on as they watched the heated discussion, not wanting to interfere. Each of them wanted the best and the best only for the littlest Loser, but what really was the best for her in that moment? Their minds travelled back to Stanley, how they saw him on the ground, his version of IT biting at his face, perhaps only mere moments from killing Stan. Did they really want that for Y/N? Did they want to risk that much? However, that first time, no one died. No matter how close. They got out of there once before, who said they couldn’t do that a second time?

“Eat a dick, Eddie.” Richie mumbled before averting his gaze to look at his daughter. The determination in her eyes was uncanny. Richie knew there was no stopping her.

“You won’t ever leave my side. You’ll stay with one of the Losers at all times. If I tell you to run and leave, you will. And don’t try to be a hero down there. And if you feel like anything’s too much for you, tell us and we’re gonna figure something out.”

Y/N nodded along to her father’s rules. She had to bite her lip to keep her tears at bay. Tears of uncertainty. No one knew what was truly ahead of them and there were no guessing games either. The Losers just hoped that at least one of them would see the daylight again.

Mike went back to the car to fetch the few flashlights he had thrown into the car before hurrying to catch up with Bill. He then proceeded to give them out to the Losers Plus One. One after another got their lights. Everyone except for Stanley. But in some way, Stan was still there. Maybe it was just a silly way of grief and remembering for Mike as he, with a heavy heart and deep sigh, gave the last flashlight to Y/N, but it seemed like the girl was Stan’s filler. Like there was a reason she managed to convince Richie to take her with him from LA back to Derry, into the mess they were met with. 

Y/N shivered when she really stepped into the building. It was like every last drop of happiness had been washed away, like she had been drained of her emotions, drained of what made her human. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. IT could attack them at any given moment. IT could come for them whenever. IT could be right around the corner.

Out in Derry, Y/N had felt like she was running around with a target on her head. She was in a town she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everyone could have been Pennywise in disguise, as far as she knew. But now, they had entered IT’s home. The place IT knew better than anyone else. The place IT resided and killed children in. The odds of beating IT, whatever IT even was, were slim and Y/N had figured out just that. Basically, all of them were a delicious meal, presenting itself on a plate for IT.

Y/N followed the adult Losers she had grown to trust around the house, staying especially close to Richie. But she couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was keeping an extra close eye on her. Just in case.

Wood creaked below their feet, a low hum echoed through the room with the wind whistling through the cracks and broken windows. Suddenly, a new sound caught her attention. A sound that didn’t fit the picture. A sound that sounded so foreign, it was terrifying. 

“What the fuck?” Y/N breathed out as she took a step back, never having seen anything like that before. But none of the Losers seemed to be weirded out by some black lava randomly seeping out of the wood, followed by a hissing sound of burning wood. Each one of the Losers seemed tense, but a strange sense of calmness accompanied their characters. Y/N felt lost. Because she felt distanced from the Losers. Not so much physically, but more mentally.

“Well, I love what he’s doing with the place.” Richie said as he watched the mass spread.

“Peep-peep, Richie.” Beverly said, voice unimpressed with the humour Richie still tried to bring up, despite the seriousness of the situation. Y/N felt a shiver running down her spine, shaking through her body, as she unconsciously tried to get closer to the Losers. Nothing she saw was right. It wasn’t natural, or so it seemed, and it made her head swim. She felt like she was thrown straight into a horror movie and was made to live there, fight her way through. It was terrifying as she didn’t know what would happen next, where she had to go, but the worst was the unknowingness of the moment, the uncertainty if any of them would ever see the sunlight again. If any of their lungs would ever be filled with the fresh, unused and clean air they were met with outside. If any of them would even be able to breathe still after this night or if they would all lose their lives.

“I’ve got to keep that one in mind. Maybe that’ll shut him up on the flight back home.” Y/N replied, hoping to ease some of her own tension the way her father always does. Successfully so, with the chuckle that escaped Ben’s lips, she did feel a little lighter on her feet. She felt some of the hopelessness melting away. She felt a little warmth in her chest.

Bill walked before the rest of the group. Slowly at first, but he seemed to be impatient, every step he took was quicker than the last. Y/N watched him go, not knowing if what he did was something conscious, something he himself wanted to do, if he knew where to go or if it was IT somehow forcing him. How, she didn’t know, but Y/N was sure IT had more tricks up his clown-costume sleeve than any of them would like to know.

Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Dust swirled in the air, straining Y/N’s airways. The air was thick with what Y/N felt might be the smell of decay, old blood, maybe even faeces. She had no idea what she had yet to encounter, but the smell that tested her gag reflexes already didn’t give her much hope of a fair game.

For a second, she let her mind wander. She wondered how many people had been taken by IT. How many children had been led to their death with promises meant to be broken and false hopes of things they would never receive? Y/N let her mind wander, far enough to not notice that they had split into two groups, one of them distancing themselves from the other quite rapidly.

Ben suddenly groaned. Throaty, filled with pain. Heads whipped around. Before Y/N was even able to comprehend what was happening, Bev had already called out to him, a worried yell of his name. Something about the way her voice carried itself made her sound like she was already expecting the worst. And she wasn’t wrong with that.

Y/N looked around, head frantically whipping from side to side, only being able to locate Bev, Ben and Mike. Yelling echoed through the abandoned house, she heard Bill yelling for them, she heard Eddie and her father. Fists banging against a door. And she saw Ben sinking to his knees. His hands pressed to his stomach, trying to find a source of pain. Y/N rushed towards Ben, holding onto his right arm alongside Beverly, who felt panic take over as she watched how Ben’s white shirt gained blood red stains.

Somewhere down the hall, Bill was yelling for Ben. Y/N heard their voices clear and loudly and she felt how her feelings were twisted. She felt the need to run to the other Losers, stick with her father and the person who might as well become her stepfather, but she didn’t want to let Ben down. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his suffering.

Mike joined the two women as Ben lowered himself to the ground, screams of agony leaving his lips, shaking the Losers to their core, breaking their hearts and making their stomachs churn. Ben pulled up his shirt, revealing streaks of blood, open wounds as something none of them could see dragged along his stomach, leaving deep cuts.

Bev yelled as Ben watched his stomach being torn apart with wild eyes, too many bad memories, too much fear bubbling up in him. He was reminded of the pure hatred, the insanity in Bowers’ eyes as he cut into Ben’s stomach that one fateful summer, the cuts that pained him so much physically, but even more mentally. The wound that would taunt him until he left the town and far beyond that. A scar that never really let him go.

Y/N cringed as she watched, before she jumped up, looking for the clown in a panicked daze. She didn’t notice how she was running around, looking for something that might give away his location. It happened naturally, her instincts took over. But if there was one thing Y/N knew about the clown by now, it was that it had a preference when it came to attacks. It would use their fears against them. Now she was left to figure out what could scare Ben.

She turned to look at Ben, the carvings on his stomach now read ‘HOME AT LA’, new lines appearing on Ben’s stomach with every second. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on the mirror. She saw their huddled up figures. In her state, she almost didn’t notice the white face added to the group.

“The mirror!” Y/N yelled out as she watched IT happily torture Ben, the words on his stomach being completed as IT was ready to move for the kill. The kill IT had been dreaming of, the thing IT had waited 27 years for. The first out of eight kills that would finally give it the satisfaction and peace IT had craved for years. Ever since those kids came across IT for the first time.

Neither Y/N nor Bev really thought as they acted. Both acted on instinct, taking the first hard object they could find and smashing it against the mirror. It shattered into what looked and felt like a million pieces as the girls tried to shield their faces from the sharp shards flying around the room, whipping around to look at Ben.

The pent up adrenaline left their bodies quickly, a heavy weight being lifted off their chests as they spotted Ben’s now free-of-cuts abdomen and neck. Y/N’s relief, however, was quick to dissipate though, as the screams of the three men that walked ahead reached her ears.

She ran faster than she thought her legs could carry her towards what her ears told her was the source of the screams until she was met with closed doors.

“Dad! DAD!” Y/N yelled as she hammered against the door with her fists. Tears blurred her vision, a sharp pain shooting from her balled fists through her whole arm as she tried to get into the room, trying to get to her father who was screaming for help.

“Richie!” Mike yelled, followed by Ben and Bev as the trio ran after the girl who now threw herself against the door in hopes of getting it to open up. The wood finally gave in. Eddie was standing in a corner. Shaking his head. Face contorted with fear. Bill was screaming. For a knife. Richie was begging for help. A knife. Where? She saw it. Glistening in the low light.

Suddenly, the spider-head trying to kill Richie stopped its movement. Bill looked up in shock. Y/N held the knife tightly in her hands, the blade pushed into the head. Her knuckles were white, fingers laced tightly around the blade like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

In a fit of rage, she pulled the knife out of the head only to ram it back in. Over and over and over again. Five, six, seven times. She wasn’t met with any resistance, nothing to stop her from letting out the anger and frustration and hatred she felt towards the thing that would forever have an impact on her life.

It wasn’t until Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back that she stopped. If it was up to Y/N, she would have continued to stab the thing until it wasn’t more than a pile of mush on the ground. Despite the nausea and the guilt that filled her, ate away at her. Despite the dirty feeling on her skin as she tried to end a life. Despite the burning in her brain and in her heart, both of them yelling at her to stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to do just that. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t rest. Not until revenge had been served. Not until justice found its way to make things right again. Even though she knew that things wouldn’t be right again. What she saw wasn’t something to forget. What they had said and done wasn’t something to shrug off.

“Y/N, it’s enough. Richie’s alright.” Ben whispered to the girl in his arms as he pulled her away and tried to push her head in his chest, hoping to shield her sight. From what exactly, Ben wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to have her see IT get away with what it had done. Maybe he wanted her to just focus on him to calm down. Or maybe he was scared that some of the anger she was able to let out would rebound onto Richie and Ben hoped to prevent that. All he knew was that it felt right to hug his Loser-niece tightly as the rest of the group tried to catch their breath.

“Is everybody okay?” Bev asked as she dropped to her knees beside Richie who was coughing and sputtering with Bill still leaning over him. She pulled off her jacket to wipe whatever the slime was that IT had left on Richie’s face away.

Bill was now the one to feel the rage. Storming towards Eddie, he only had one thing in his mind. Anger burned hot inside his mind and his chest as he pushed Eddie back to the wall.

“He could have f-f-f-fucking died, man. You k-know that, right?” Bill screeched at Eddie, voice coarse with disbelief. Eddie’s gaze travelled from Bill, Big Bill, who now seemed more intimidating than ever, over Richie who was being cared for by Bev, to Y/N, still in Ben’s arms, as he and Mike tried to provide comfort and maybe just the smallest sense of calmness. She was shaking, shivering, as she watched her father, seemingly zoned out with a few stray tears on her cheeks.

“Georgie’s dead. The k-kid’s dead. Stan-Stanley’s dead. Y-you want Richie too?” Bill couldn’t help himself as he screamed, the fear settling in him, he felt intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in. None of them wanted to be back there, none of them wanted to face IT again, but Bill was the one who had the hardest time. He was the cause of their misery. He was the cause of Georgie’s death. And Stan’s. And the kid’s. He couldn’t bear the guilt of another Loser, one of the people closest to him, to lose their life for his cause. And especially not the only Loser who had a child of their own to take care of.

As Bill kept screaming the words ‘You want Richie too?’, all Eddie could do was shake his head, eyes not meeting Bill’s as he whispered his reply. “I don’t. I don’t want Richie too. I don’t, I don’t.”

When Bill’s shouting ceased, the room filled with heavy breaths and quiet, the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking as Y/N crawled towards her father, embracing him tightly. Finally, Eddie managed to look at Bill, properly look at him.

“Please don’t be mad, Bill.” Eddie was close to begging as he felt hot tears fill his eyes to the brim, threatening to spill over at any given moment. “I was just scared.”

And at that moment, they all noticed. Eddie’s eyes were still the same. It was Eddie Spaghetti Bill was yelling at. Not Edward Kaspbrak, the successful Risk Analyser. It was Big Bill yelling, not Bill Denbrough, the bestselling author.

“That- that’s what he w-w-wants, right?” Bill asked, realisation dawning in him, the Losers and their Plus One. Y/N watched Eddie and Bill with cold eyes, a broken heart. She almost felt betrayed by Eddie. The man who had told her that he loved her father, had feelings for him in the least, who couldn’t step up and save him when no one else was available. She almost lost the only person who had stayed with her through everything, the man who felt like home. And she couldn’t forget. Hurt was deeply implanted in her chest and in her head as Richie held onto her for dear life.

“Don’t- don’t give it to him.” Bill finished, taking his hands off Eddie who now sobbed, almost not more than a quiet gasp, as he realised that his lack of actions could have led to the death of his love. And it pained him, even more, to know that it had taken him more than 27 years and he still didn’t have the balls to even think of Richie as more than a crush. Deep down, Eddie longed to be in Richie’s warm embrace, he cherished every joke Richie cracked, no matter how insulting, maybe even especially when insulting. Richie made his heart flutter, his palms sweaty. And even the thought of losing Richie to death scared Eddie so much that his body went frigid, ice cold. He froze. He was petrified. But he couldn’t tell. Not Richie, not Y/N. Not now. Not when they both looked at him, disbelief clear in their faces, eyes cold with hatred.

Only, they weren’t. But Eddie didn’t know.


	12. Chapter 12

There was no time for a break. Taking a breath was all they could do. IT could be anywhere in that place, sitting down, not moving could be dangerous. But so was moving.

Bill, as always, led the group. Followed closely by Mike, Ben, Y/N, Richie, Bev and Eddie. Roles were naturally assumed once more. Bev tried to stay close to Eddie, hoping to provide comfort, hoping to be able to protect him. Although her heart longed to be further in the front. With the man who had captured her heart through a postcard. But she couldn’t leave Eddie behind. It would feel like betraying him. Especially now that Eddie couldn’t even bear looking at Richie without tears welling up in his eyes. Bev could see it. She saw the hurt. But she didn’t know how to help. She didn’t know how the Toziers felt and, frankly, she felt that there were more pressing matters that required her attention.

“A lot of memories, huh?” Ben grumbled, stopping for a moment to look at the well before them. “All bad.”

“Try looking at it this way. This is the last time you’ll have to go down there.” Y/N threw in as she stood by Ben before all of them took the last few steps. The last few steps before the abyss. Before they would climb down again and be faced with things none of them had expected to see again.

Ben smiled at her sadly as he walked, hand reaching over to give her a gentle pat on the shoulder. Y/N returned the smile but her body shook with fear as she stepped down the wobbly, ominously creaking stairs.

What followed was an agonisingly slow descend down the well that held so many dangers. Mike went first. With their generally broader frames, the adults had an easier time gripping the walls, slowly climbing down. None of them showed much of a struggle as they climbed down. Mike, then Bill, Ben, Richie, who helped Y/N, making sure that she wouldn’t get hurt, and at last there were Eddie and Bev.

“Aw, man.” Y/N said as she left the tunnel, stepping into the water of the sewers. Her shoes immediately filled with water and she was sure they would make a disgusting squelching sound whenever she took a step if she wasn’t dragging her feet through the muggy water. A smell that almost burned in her eyes filled her nostrils and as she looked up at Richie, she was sure that she wasn’t the only one overcome with nausea. Richie’s face was as white as a ghost and his hands were evidently shaking. His flashlight moved unsteadily.

“Bleurgh, Grey water.” Eddie said as he jumped into the water, followed by Beverly. She spared a glance directed at Y/N and Richie before taking a second to look around the tunnels that seemed eerily familiar yet incredibly foreign.

“You good?” Y/N asked Eddie who looked up at her with widened eyes. He nodded quickly, opening his mouth to say something before closing it again and moving forward. Richie watched the moment, uneasiness washing over him as Eddie hid away in a shell that Richie wasn’t used to. Y/N looked up at her father, her eyes filled with worry. Richie nodded in understanding before they, too, followed the group, moving together as one.

As if natural, they moved through the tunnels, echoes of the waves they created preceded their own steps. It was an almost calm atmosphere if it wasn’t for the looming darkness, the evil around every corner, behind every wall, hidden away just behind them, maybe in front, but never leaving them alone.

“How do you guys know where you’re going?” Y/N dared to ask, breaking the silence that laid itself over the Losers like a net, trapping them effectively.

“We don’t.” Mike replied. “We just follow our instincts.”

Y/N nodded but she didn’t understand. Richie inhaled sharply through his nose. He wasn’t even sure they understood. But it didn’t matter. Not really. Walking a certain direction just felt either right or wrong. That’s how they knew. But just to be sure, Eddie was walking close to the front, he was the one with the best orientation, even in the sewers where every path looked like the one before.

The water was rising gradually. At first it only reached Y/N’s ankles, then her calves, her thighs and, as they reached what seemed to be a destination, the water almost reached over her hips.

“Shit. This is it. This is where it happened.” Ben said, the words just flowing out of his mouth. Like he had no control over his speech anymore. And he probably hadn’t.

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine. Ice cold, like a shower. Her body jerked as her eyes landed on the construction in the middle of the room. A wooden platform, surrounded by rubbish, trash, probably debris. Y/N was sure she could even spot a few toys, the thought making her sick to the stomach.

“Is this where IT took the kids to float?” she asked the group, their solemn faces in return were enough of an answer. Bile rose to her mouth, the girl clutched her stomach in hopes to calm it down. Beverly laid a hand on her back as Richie looked at her with curious yet worried eyes. She shook them off, shaking her head as she mustered up a smile. Y/N swallowed the bile before stepping closer to the room that held so many previous dangers. One after another, the Losers climbed into the sewer room. It was deeper and flooded, even the tallest were sinking almost chest deep into the water. Bill observed Y/N as Richie was busy climbing into the cold water himself, holding her up when she slipped, almost getting lost in the dirty water.

“Thanks.” Y/N mumbled. Bill nodded but even in the second of holding her up by her arms, he could feel the tension in the young girl. Something he usually only encountered in adults, most prominently Audra, but he couldn’t help but feel miserable for her. Bill still felt that it was his fault she was dragged into this mess and he wanted to make damn sure that she would get out of it alive. She and Richie. He owed her that much. He was convinced he did.

The group waded through the muddy water. The last time they had been in the sewers, the water wasn’t there, children were floating, and toys and rubble were stacked way up high. They were relieved to say the least as they didn’t spot a child nearby, however the relief was short-lived.

“No, no, no, no, no. Ugh, no.” Eddie said, hands raised above the water, his face scrunched up in disgust while a teddy bear that was floating on the water moved his way. Richie made a little wave, moving the bear into a different direction without touching it and offering Eddie a smile. Eddie returned a tight-lipped smile. But Richie found some thankfulness in his eyes. His heart was put at ease. 

Mike climbed onto the platform, followed by Bill. A line had formed and to Y/N it looked almost comically in order.

“Bevvie.” A harsh whisper sounded somewhere behind Beverly. She turned around, body moving on its own as she panned the flashlight around, looking for the source of the sound. The water reflected the light. It moved slowly. Menacingly.

Ben turned around after a few steps. “What is it?” he breathed towards Beverly as he noticed the gap between the two and her back turned towards him.

“I thought I heard something.” Bev replied. Her voice sounded light, relieved. Nothing was there. Just the wind. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. She turned around, a small smile tugging on her lips.

A piercing scream. Beverly. The Losers only had seconds to get a grip on the situation. IT was there. In the form of a deformed old woman. IT grabbed Bev’s head, a threatening yet taunting look on IT’s face as it turned around to Ben. He called her name. But he was petrified. 

“Time to sink!” IT yelled out in a raspy voice. A second later, Bev disappeared underwater. Richie quickly pushed Y/N onto the platform before jumping to Bev’s help like the rest of the Losers’ Club. Well, everyone minus Eddie.

Petrified, he sat there, eyes fixed on the water as Y/N moved closer to her only source of protection. Eddie looked at her, eyes wild with fear, as he sat still. Eddie didn’t dare to move a limb.

“Guys?” he called out towards the not calm water. “Okay, guys. Come on.”

“Dad?” Y/N asked, clutching her wet shirt with fear.

“Hey, guys? Hey guys, come on. Please, come on. I don’t want to walk out of here alone.” Eddie whimpered, tears shining in his eyes. Y/N’s head whipped towards the man, sympathy clouding her mind and body.

“Eddie, hey, Uncle Eds.” She said, taking his face into her hands. She forced him to look at her, away from the water. “You’re not gonna walk out of here alone. I’m with you. We got each other.” She said. Y/N tried her best to sound strong, convincing even. But she failed herself, and with that, she failed Eddie.

“They’re gonna be alright, we’re gonna be alright. We’re all gonna walk out of here and we’re gonna be happy and you and Richie can finally get your shit together.” She was ranting desperately. Suddenly, they were clawing at each other, holding onto each other for dear life. They were shaking in each other’s arms, whimpering, even a few tears found their way out. But for the first time since walking down into the sewers, maybe even for the first time since stepping into the house at Neibolt street, they felt something that resembled safety and comfort.

Anxious eyes watched the water surface.

It was still. Nothing happened. Nothing moved. Y/N felt her chest ache with fear for her father. For the only family she had known.

Then, five heads popped up, gasping for air.

Eddie and Y/N exhaled with relief. Beverly struggled a little, coughing and sputtering as her lungs finally filled with air again. Ben held her, supported her body as each of the Losers slowly waded back to the dry land.

“Mike, where do we go from here?” Richie asked as he made his way to Y/N and Eddie. With that, the group gathered around a door in the wooden floor, something that had lain hidden the first time around. The group gathered in a circle around the door with the strange carving. One more fidgety than the other. They were about to enter foreign territory and none of them liked the idea.

“In the depths is where it crept. In the beneath to find belief. In the depths is where it crept. In the beneath to find belief.” Mike chanted; voice eerily calm. To an outsider it might seem like he knew what he was doing, but did he really?

“Is he okay?” Ben whispered; eyebrows furrowed.

“I think at this point that’s a relative question.” Richie replied while his daughter merely shook her head with widened eyes.

“What’s on the other side?” Bev asked. She had her arms wrapped around herself as the cold took over her drenched body.

“I don’t know. No one does.” And with that, he opened the door. The Losers took a step back, taken aback at Mike’s sudden action, the bravery and stupidity it took. Mike shone the light down the tunnel and after a particularly short evaluation, he sat down at the edge, ready to climb down.

“M-Mike, don’t-“ Bill said, reaching out to his friend.

“All right. See you down there.” Mike exclaimed, ignoring his friends. Exclamations of his name paired with the word ‘wait’ were met with deaf ears as he descended into the unknown. Worried glances followed him as he slowly descended into the unknown.

“St-Stay together.” Bill said to the remaining Losers as he leaned down, crouching, ready to follow Mike. Ben replied with a whispered ‘okay’ as he too watched with discomfort as one of his best friends climbed down into the darkness.

“You guys, I can’t do it.” Eddie said suddenly. Y/N felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Richie felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he watched his friend crumble, succumb to his own insecurities.

“I can’t. You saw what happened up there. I was gonna- I was gonna let you die.” Eddie mumbled. He wasn’t sure who he was addressing with his word-vomit. Whether it was the group, the Toziers or just himself. But he knew he couldn’t. The pressure was too high. He couldn’t function like that. He wouldn’t. And, with the trapdoor opened, the finality of the moment seemed all too real. Eddie wasn’t ready to face it. Eddie wasn’t ready to see his friends get hurt or - much worse - die. And he was sure at least one of them was going to lose their life. The stakes were high, the risks even higher. And what were seven Losers supposed to do when facing an entity whose full potential none of them were aware of?

Y/N shook her head, slowly stepping closer to Eddie while everyone else remained frozen. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if words were even so much as necessary in that situation.

“I just fucking froze up.” Eddie continued his little rant. “If you let me go down there with you, I’m gonna get us all killed.”

Eddie inhaled sharply, his new inhalator from Keene’s drugstore filled his lungs with relief, the sharp pain slowly ebbing away. But the relief was only short lived as something – or more someone – grabbed the inhalator and pulled it away from Eddie’s lips. Placebo or not, Eddie felt as though the last thing keeping him alive was taken from him.

“Hey, hey, hey. Gimme that.” Richie said as he tried to steal the little metal piece of shit.

“Richie-“

“Let go, you little turd!”

“Just let me get…” Eddie sprayed into the air, the medicine immediately evaporated, but he tried to breathe it in still. Richie suddenly waved his flashlight before Eddie’s eyes, the light blinding him, causing him to let go.

“Listen to me. You had a moment. Fine. But who killed a psychotic clown before he was 14?” Richie asked as he towered over the smaller man. Richie’s eyebrows were furrowed, emotions not really obvious to those standing by. Except for Y/N. She knew that Richie’s heart was beating faster because he was standing so close to Eddie and not just because of the clown. She knew Richie’s palms were sweaty because he was afraid to let go of Eddie, but also because touching him was just as scary. She knew that Richie was scared because he didn’t know if either of them would make it out alive. She knew that Richie wouldn’t want to lose sight of either of them. She knew that he wanted to keep them close and get them out alive.

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, every fibre of his body begged for him to disagree, to say that it wasn’t him. But he finally pressed out an unsure ‘me’.

“Who stabbed Bowers with a knife he pulled out of his own face?”

“Also me.” Eddie said, not daring to look up at Richie. It reminded him of how Eddie had failed him.

“Who married a woman 10 times his own body mass?”

The Losers were met with silence.

“Really? Wow. Didn’t know he had it in him.” Y/N mumbled to Ben and Bev who almost snorted with surprise.

“…Me.” Eddie finally looked up at Richie. Looked him in the eyes. Eddie felt his heart swell with pride as he caught Richie smiling. Richie nodded.

“You’re braver than you think.” Richie said, hand landing on Eddie’s shoulder. A soft smile still tugged at his lips as he watched Eddie grow in himself. The air was thick with tension. Y/N watched the two men with wide eyes and a grin that couldn’t be bigger. She caught herself just in time, not wanting to ruin the moment by squealing and cheering for the two blind lovebirds to take a step.

“Alright. Thanks Rich.” Eddie replied, facial features growing softer. Richie couldn’t take his eyes off Eddie, couldn’t get himself to look away. He felt out of character as he looked at the smaller man with literal heart eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t want to. He wanted to step closer to Eddie and press his own lips against Eddie’s. He wanted to know how they felt, how they tasted, wanted to know how this side of himself would feel.

Y/N watched on, biting on her thumbnail as to keep quiet and not ruin the moment. She had never seen her father look at anyone with as much adoration as he mustered up in that moment on the edge between life and death. The sewers had proven themselves to be an unpredictable place.

Richie raised his hand on instinct, wanting to lay it on Eddie’s cheek, cup it to pull Eddie closer, but he forgot about the bandage that still covered half of Eddie’s face. Just when Y/N was sure they were about to kiss, Richie lightly slapped Eddie’s cheek and pulled away.

The grin was wiped from Y/N’s face and even Ben and Beverly, who had remained unsuspecting up until that point, found themselves disappointed at the lack of action. Richie stepped away, walking back to his little one who just blinked at him.

“What the fuck, man.” Y/N said, only for her father to hear.

“What?!”

“I had such high hopes for you two. And you fucked up. No wonder you haven’t gotten any in ages, old man.” Y/N mumbled as they watched Beverly hand over the rusty metal pole from the fence outside to Eddie.

“Oh fuck off, I fucked your mum. That should be about enough.” Richie mumbled until he realised what he had said. A joke that usually was so light-hearted between the two now felt incredibly heavy. “Y/N, I-“

“It’s alright, Richie. Forget about it.” She replied, giving him a half-smile before walking over to Eddie. Richie sighed, running a hand over his own face. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, in fact he was trying to make fun of himself, but he hurt the one he loved the most. It stung in his chest, left a foul taste in his mouth as he watched his daughter interact with Eddie. She was his daughter, Richie had almost no doubt. At least one way. She knew she was his in a psychological way too. She would always look at him as such, but it hurt to not know the truth, not know who she was or who he was. She felt incomplete. And yet, she didn’t feel angry about Richie’s joke. Not really. Y/N knew he only meant well. 

“Hey Eddie, whatcha got there?” Y/N asked the man, who still warily watched the pole in his hand.

“I don’t know. Bev said it kills monsters.”

“Well, I guess that gives us a little advantage.” Y/N smiled, but the smile faded just as quickly as it had come. “Listen, uncle Eds. Just the fact that you’re here already makes you a brave man. And I don’t mean the sewers. I mean coming back to Derry. It must’ve been a nightmare and I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for not giving up yet and letting IT win. And I promise you we will all get out of this alive. If you believe that we will.”

Eddie didn’t say a word, he just pulled her in for a hug. His eyes found Richie’s for a moment. Richie smiled. And so did he. It felt like Eddie had just found the family he had always craved.


End file.
